The Webs We Weave
by angstydaydreams
Summary: Five-0 must discover who's behind the attacks on Danny and Steve that leave the two men struggling for survival before they have a chance to strike again. Danny and Steve whump galore...
1. Chapter 1

The story is pretty much complete at this point. I'm still doing some final tweaks and edits. My aim is to post two chapters a week until it's done. I'll aim for Wed/Thur-ish and Sun/Mon-ish as my schedule allows.

Time for my standard medical disclaimer: I am not a medical professional. I'm a girl with google. I research to the best of my abilities, and I try to make the medical scenes as authentic and accurate as I can manage, but no doubt I don't always interpret the material correctly and sometimes I just take creative license.

I owe one huge thank you to my fabulous beta JoaniexJony who has given invaluable advice and insight throughout the writing of this fic. You always help me make the writing better, hon, and I so appreciate it.

I hope you enjoy my little addition to the growing number of Danny and Steve whump stories. (Yay! Keep writing guys-too much Danny whump and Steve whump is not a possibility!) They just might be the most fun characters to write for, ever. This story takes place in Season 1 after "Loa Aloha" but sometime before "Ne Me'e Laua na Paio" (and the appearance of Jenna Kaye).

Reviews and con crit are always appreciated—I love to hear what you think.

The Webs We Weave

Chapter One

Danny and Steve crouched behind a pair of large shipping crates. Bullets slammed into the wood with heavy thuds, sending splinters flying into the air. They were pinned down about sixty yards from a warehouse on an old sugar plantation on the eastern edge of the Ewa Forest Reservation. Acting on an anonymous tip and unsure what they'd find, they'd left the Camaro a mile down the road and hiked in to avoid detection. They'd just been approaching the building when the door had swung open; a large burly man had stepped out, stared at the two intruders in shock before promptly diving back inside. As Steve and Danny dove behind the only cover they could find, they heard the sound of breaking glass. Machine gun fire had soon followed.

Steve held his gun at the ready and tried to peer around the edge of the crate. He ducked back as a bullet whizzed by his ear. He glanced over at Danny. His partner was sitting on the ground, back against the crate, knees to his chest, gun fisted tightly between his hands, looking profoundly pissed.

"So if I was to _articulate_ our process here," Steve drawled, bending towards his partner. "We have no need to wait for a warrant since the bad guys are obviously trying to kill us. In other words, we have sufficient probable cause."

"Funny, Steven," Danny glowered at his partner, wincing as another hail of bullets ricocheted against the crates. "If you'd gone to the academy instead of SEAL school, you'd know that how well a detective _articulates_ the facts of a case can make the difference between the bad guy rotting in jail or flipping us the bird on his way out of the courtroom."

Danny took a deep breath and dove around the corner of the crates, firing back at the gunmen who had them pinned down. The problem was his and Steve's nine mils had nothing on the machine guns Jimmy Teer and his crew were using against them, it was like throwing stones against a tank. As the machine gun fire escalated again, Danny pulled back, resting his head against the crate. He continued as if he'd never stopped talking. "Governor Jameson may have given you full immunity and means, but the court system didn't. If we don't follow police procedure a judge will put all the lowlifes we arrest right back out on the street."

"That doesn't make sense, Danny." Steve scrunched his face in puzzlement. "It's obvious they're guilty."

"You have been chasing shoe bombers out of the country too long, my friend," Danny shook his head, punctuating his words with sharp slices of his hand. "It's called the American justice system. No waterboarding. No locking people up in Guantanamo without evidence, a warrant or a defense attorney."

"Fine, whatever," Steve said impatiently, his sarcasm evident. "You can't argue with _success_." His eyes flat, he leaned around the crate and fired again at the warehouse. He ducked back, breathing hard. He popped the empty clip out of his gun and shoved in a new one. "That's my last mag. You?"

Danny nodded the same. "I'm almost out."

"We're not gonna make it until backup gets here," Steve said, his eyes roaming their immediate vicinity.

"I assume you're working on some crazy SEAL plan?" Danny asked resignedly. "And please keep in mind this is my weekend with Grace, so I would appreciate it if whatever you come up with doesn't get me shot full of holes."

Steve's eyes latched onto several pieces of abandoned machinery at the edge of the plantation. "There," he said. He looked at his partner and grinned.

"That's your plan?" Danny groaned. He slumped against the crates. "I'm telling you, I can get you help, Steven."

Steve cuffed Danny on the shoulder and then moved into a crouch. "You keep them busy while I go get it."

"This is a bad idea," Danny grumbled, scowling. "You don't even know if that thing'll start."

"Do you have a better one?" Steve asked pointedly.

"No," Danny sighed. "Go."

As Steve sprinted towards the edge of the plantation, Danny broke his cover and fired repeatedly towards the warehouse. The machine gun fire halted as the gunners darted out of the line of fire. Danny's nine mil clicked, ejecting the empty clip after the last bullet left the magazine. He quickly retreated behind the crates, hoping he'd given Steve enough time to reach his destination.

Steve closed in on the piece of equipment he was aiming for: a large yellow cat track loader. At nearly 62000 pounds and 263 horsepower, it was an immense piece of machinery, as good as a tank. Steve jumped into the cab. He heard the machine gun fire ratchet up again just as he managed to hotwire the engine into life. He raised the huge bucket at the front of the loader as a shield and manipulated the controls. The track rollers crunched the ground and the monster machine rumbled towards the warehouse, flattening everything in its path. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Danny swing onto the back of the loader, flattening himself against the metal carriage.

Bullets pinged off the bucket, but the loader lumbered inexorably forward, closing the distance between itself and the warehouse. Finally, it crashed through the warehouse walls, sending glass and timber flying. The two gunmen stopped firing and frantically attempted to scramble out of the way of the debris.

As the loader came to a stop, Danny sprang down from the back. Both of the gunmen lay sprawled on the ground, stunned. Danny dug his foot into the back of the closest man, keeping him down as he reached for the machine gun still clutched in his senseless hands. He raised it in front of him, finger on the trigger as the second man groaned, attempting to pull himself to his feet.

"Uh uh… Five -0," Danny smiled a warning and shook his head. "Stay down and kick the gun to me or I _will_ shoot you."

The gunman froze, slumping back to a sitting position. He shoved his gun towards Danny.

"Who else is here?" Danny asked. "Where's Jimmy Teer?"

Steve jumped down from the cab, joining his partner. He knelt next to the man Danny had pinned to the ground and quickly pulled the man's arms tightly behind his back, securing them with a zip tie.

"My partner asked you a question," Steve leveled his gaze at their two prisoners. "Where's Teer?"

The second gunman sullenly shook his head. "Not sayin' nothin'."

"Shoot him, Danny," Steve instructed calmly. "He's not gonna talk and I only had the one zip tie."

"Shoot him? You want me to shoot him?" Danny stepped off of his prisoner and waved a hand in Steve's direction. "Are you crazy?"

"Nah," Steve shrugged. "I'm being practical."

"Practical?" Danny began laughing. He smiled at the gunman. "He's being practical he says." Danny shoved the gun towards his partner. "You shoot him."

"Okay," Steve nodded, taking the gun from Danny.

"He really will shoot you, so I'd suggest you make yourself useful," Danny advised.

"You know what?" Steve snapped his fingers. "I have a better idea. Since neither one seems inclined to talk to us, we shoot both of them with their own guns, that way it looks like they shot each other. No chance of either moop beating the system and getting back out on the street."

"Moop?" Danny looked at his partner in disgust. "Did you just say moop? I told you to stop watching bad mafia movies."

"Hey, Don Corleone had a code of conduct I can get behind." Steve retrieved the second machine gun, holding it loosely in his arms. "So what do you think? I'll shoot this one; you can shoot the other one."

"Did you not listen to a word I said about the American justice system?" Danny looked at Steve in disbelief.

"Not really," Steve admitted, shrugging his shoulders. "The way I see it, dead bodies don't need defense attorneys."

"You really are insane," Danny's eyes bulged. He turned towards the gunmen. "I tried to warn you."

"You're crazy – both of you," one of the gunmen finally squeaked. "Where are the real cops?"

"I am a real cop!" Danny turned, outraged, towards the gunman. He plucked his badge from his waistband and waved it in the man's face. "And I am not crazy. That's his bag, not mine. _I'm _the sane one!"

"The moop has a point," Steve suppressed a grin as he held up one hand in a placating gesture. "Okay partner, decision time. HPD should be here any minute. If we're going to shoot them we need to do it now."

"No!" The gunman on the ground twisted around, looking desperately at Danny. "Teer is long gone. And he's pissed. He had to leave his stash, thanks to you."

"Well don't just sit there, show us where this stash is," Steve motioned with his gun.

"You…you still going to shoot us?" the gunman looked at Steve suspiciously.

"Haven't decided yet," Steve grinned mirthlessly. "Move."

"You too," Danny nudged the guy on the ground with his foot. "What's your name?"

"No, no, no," Steve interrupted. "Didn't your father tell you to never name what you're going to kill?"

"I grew up in Jersey, Steve. _Jersey_, you know civilization?" Danny gestured in indignation. "Not a farm or a military survivalist camp. Unlike you we did not kill our own food. Mom got our meat from Lorricci's Butcher Shop, like normal civilized people."

"My name's Eddie Kaina," Eddie blurted, struggling to pull himself up from his supine position on the floor with both hands secured behind his back. "He's Glen Younan."

Glen and Eddie exchanged nervous glances as they walked deeper into the warehouse, finally stopping in front of a locked shipping container. Sirens sounded faintly in the distance as Glen opened the container. Steve turned on his flashlight to look inside just as the sirens crescendoed then fell into silence.

Spotting a crowbar sitting on top of one of the shipping crates stored inside the container, Steve whistled as he used it to pop the lid. "Jesus, would you look at that." He motioned Danny forward. "There must be dozens of them."

"Surface to air missiles?" Danny arched an eyebrow at his partner. "That's a lot of firepower."

"Enough to support a small war," Steve noted as he continued to poke through the container. "Look at all this: C4, grenades…"

"Commander McGarrett?" A voice sounded through the warehouse.

"We're over here," Steve called. He turned to Danny.

"No," Danny held up one hand. "Steven. Do not say it."

Steve grinned. "Book 'em… Danno."

"I hate you," Danny sighed, pulling a set of cuffs from the back of his pants and securing Glen's hands behind his back.

"Nah, you don't," Steve grinned knowingly. "Especially after I came through for you today."

"Excuse me?" Danny looked at Steve in surprise, motioning his prisoners towards the HPD officers swarming the scene. "Do you want to run that by me again? We almost got killed."

"But my plan didn't get you shot full of holes," Steve reminded him. His eyes crinkled with amusement.

"Okay, I suppose that's true, Steven. And for that…I am grateful," Danny nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"Hey, have a good weekend with Grace," Steve said.

"Thanks," Danny said. "You have a good weekend too…doing whatever it is that you do for fun." Danny walked behind his prisoners, muttering to himself, "Sharpening your knives…testing out your brand new night vision goggles…wringing a chicken's neck…"

Steve chuckled as his grumbling partner disappeared from sight, and then got down to business cataloguing and preparing the missiles for transport to a secure facility. Teer was still out there, and more than likely this wasn't his only stash of weapons. The team had their work cut out for them to bring him down.

H5O H5O H5O H5O H5O

Detective Danny Williams watched as his daughter cautiously curled her fingers around the baseball.

"Throw it here, babe," he punched his glove with his fist. "Right here," he called, stretching his arm forward and dropping into a crouch.

Grace Williams' face pinched in concentration, her fingers taut on the small white ball. She wound her arm back and threw. The ball lobbed high and soft, drifting slowly towards her father's outstretched glove. He lunged forward, catching it before it could hit the grass.

"That's good, Gracie," he encouraged her. "Okay, I'm gonna throw it back now, get ready."

He tossed the ball gently towards his daughter. "Stick your glove out, stick your glove out! There ya go. Keep your eye on the ball, Gracie. Catch it…catch it - catch it!"

The child scrunched up her face, closed her eyes and stuck her glove out in front of her. The ball landed with a thud on the grass at her feet. Grace squinted down at the ball, tentatively glanced up at her father and then reached down and picked it up.

"Good try, Monkey. You almost had it!" Danny smiled encouragingly; his ungloved hand moved in wide swings as he continued, "Now, when you throw it back I want you to remember what I taught you. Three quarter position, okay? Not underhanded, not overhanded. Follow through, get some force into it. Otherwise you're gonna throw like a girl, understand?"

Grace cocked her head at her father, her dark eyes wide with confusion. "I am a girl, Daddy!"

"Yes," Danny nodded, "that is true." His hands arced downwards in an almost pleading gesture. "You are a girl, sweetheart. However, that does not mean you have to throw like one. You understand?"

Grace shrugged and nodded. She fingered the ball in her hand, adjusted her stance and drew her arm back.

"Daniel," Rachel came up the walkway leading to her ex-husband's apartment and shook her head reprovingly. "What have we said about that?" She walked up behind Grace and squeezed her shoulders.

"Mommy!" Grace beamed, dropping the ball to the ground to throw her arms around her mother.

"Hello sweetheart," Rachel smiled, leaning down to kiss the top of her daughter's head. She cocked her head and glanced over at Danny, her eyes twinkling. "Did you talk to your sisters like that?"

"Of course," Danny said, pressing his fingers to his chest and leaning forward slightly. "It was my job as their brother to make sure they didn't embarrass themselves at our neighborhood games. And might I add that I am a good teacher. No," he opened his arms wide, "make that a great teacher," Danny broke into a grin. "Connie took MVP her senior year in girls' softball." He turned his attention back to his daughter. "Do you want to give it one more try, Monkey?"

She nodded vigorously. Rachel stepped back. Grace's face scrunched in concentration; she drew her arm back and threw. The ball flew solidly towards Danny's midsection.

"There ya go, babe," Danny shouted in approval, flashing an "I told you so" smirk his ex's way as he snapped the ball out of the air with his glove.

He grinned as Rachel clapped wildly from the sidelines. Their daughter basked in all the attention. He glanced up at Rachel and their eyes met. Everything he needed to know about Rachel was in her eyes. Her face might look a mask of calm, but her eyes told the truth. At times they'd gone so dark from anger he thought they might swallow him whole. But since that night, that night when Mattie ran away and he'd found himself on Rachel's doorstep, her eyes had told a different story. They sparkled with warmth and they whispered of longing and need.

Rachel broke contact first, glancing down as Grace threw her arms around her waist.

"Are you ready to go sweetheart?" Rachel asked, tugging gently on one of her daughter's pigtails.

Danny tossed the glove and ball aside, dropping to one knee and opening his arms. "Come here Monkey."

Grace wriggled out of Rachel's embrace and dashed into her father's arms. Danny wrapped his arms around her.

"Love you Monkey."

"Love you Danno," Grace smiled, finally pulling away.

"Thanks for the extra time with her today," Danny stood up and gazed over at Rachel.

His ex wife nodded, hiding her eyes from Danny as she helped her daughter set her backpack on her shoulders.

"Goodbye Daniel," Rachel gave her ex husband a wave and then looped an arm loosely around Grace's shoulders, steering the child towards the car.

Danny held up one hand. "Goodbye," he called, letting his hand drop to his side as the two most important women in his life disappeared from view. With a sigh, he reached down to retrieve the glove and ball and headed towards his apartment.

He opened the door and stood for a moment in the doorway. It was quiet and gloomy. Clouds had sprung up overhead, turning the sky a dark grey. He sighed. The place always seemed empty after Gracie went back to Rachel's.

Lost in thought, Danny didn't hear the scuff of the boot behind him until it was too late. He half turned and something hard smashed into his right temple, causing pain to ricochet through his skull. He felt himself falling and then everything went black.

H5O H5O H5O H5O H5O H5O H5O

Steve leaned back against the seat cushion, tipped the beer bottle to his lips and gazed across the water. He could just barely see the island from here. It was peaceful, almost as if he was the only living being in the world. Steve enjoyed company, but he'd never had a problem being alone. He'd never understood those who didn't enjoy their own space- who had to yammer incessantly like their lives depended upon it. Steve smiled. Even Danny, who could talk like no one he'd ever met before, knew when to stop and enjoy the moment.

The boat rocked gently in the open ocean and the sun was warm on his face. He'd abandoned his fishing pole ages ago, after the cooler on the floor next to him had been filled. He'd have to have the team over for dinner so his catch wouldn't go to waste. Yeah, it was a good plan and he grinned, warming to the idea. He'd fire up the grill—Chin, Kono, and Danny could bring Grace. A family affair. When he left the island so many years ago, he'd lost the only family he'd had, never guessing that when he finally returned home, he'd find another one.

The wind picked up, rustling his hair and sending the small boat rolling through a slight swell. He sighed, reveling in the crisp salty air. Every once in a while, even he needed a day off. And he knew he needed to clear his head. Tomorrow would be time enough to track down Jimmy Teer. Tomorrow he would deal with Wo Fat and try to get his head around why the objects from his father's Champ box continued to mysteriously show up on his doorstep. Tomorrow was another day, but today he would let sea and sky remind him that there were some things in this world that didn't change with time.

A gust of wind whipped across the boat. Steve glanced towards the east; the ocean was growing noticeably choppier and the small boat rocked on the swells. Storm clouds butted against the horizon and Steve knew it was time to head home. With a sigh, he stood up, taking one last glance at the distant shoreline.

Had Steve been standing anywhere other than the stern of the boat, he would not have survived the explosion. The boat bucked with concussive force, flinging Steve a good ten feet into the air before slamming him down into the water. Dazedly Steve struggled against gravity, attempting to stop himself from hurtling any further underwater. His lungs strained. Everything happened so fast, he'd had no time to draw a breath before he hit the water. White spots danced in his vision. He struggled frantically, his heart thrumming wildly in his chest, and for a long horrible second he had no idea which way was up.

In the end, it was training that saved him. Muscle memory kicked in, his body righted itself, and he shot desperately for the surface. As his head broke free of the water, he gasped, sucking in breath after breath. Immediately he choked on acrid smoke and fumes. He lifted up his hands in a futile attempt to protect his face and head from the fiery debris that rained down around him. A piece of fiberglass shrapnel glanced off his arm. The wind whipped waves tossed him like a rag doll, smashing his back mercilessly into a large piece of wreckage. Steve groaned, his body numb, and he struggled to stay afloat, to keep his head above the surface of the water. With a terrible keening sound, the remains of the smoking, burning boat lurched and tipped, and then, scarily fast, with one final gurgling moan, it sank beneath the sea.

Steve tiredly tread water. The island, once a pretty view, was now a vague diaphanous outline in the distance. He figured he was approximately eighty miles from shore and the ocean swells were now around three feet deep. Even if he hadn't been in shock, his body aching from the battering it took from the debris, it was too far from shore to swim. No other vessels dotted the skyline, all seeming to have fled the storm and returned to port or gone further out to sea. He was adrift. Alone. Only Danny knew where he'd been planning to take the boat out, and realistically his partner would only miss him when he didn't show up for work the next morning.

Panic threatened to overwhelm him. It ripped at his mind. His heart hammered in his chest. He couldn't draw in enough air. Steel bands tightened around his lungs and he felt lightheaded. He had to get to shore. It was his only chance at survival. If he didn't start swimming now, he would be swept out to sea.

"_Calm down! Give in to panic and you die!"_

Steve didn't know where the voice came from; if it was memory or his own vocalization, but it stopped him in his tracks. The steel bands loosened and sweet oxygen flowed into his lungs. Danny would send help. They would come for him. He just had to hang on.

Something knocked into his forearm. He stared in disbelief at the life preserver from the boat. Already it was bobbing away from him. Steve lunged for it, ignoring the aches and pains. He clamped his fingers on the preserver and pulled it towards him, slipping it over his head. He draped his arms around the donut, let his head fall back, and he let himself float, allowed himself to drift with the currents of the sea. He had to conserve energy. The island was lost to him. His rescue would come by crossing paths with a passing vessel, or the Coast Guard would track his location by following the movements of the ocean's currents.

Steve knew his life had one purpose now: survive until help came. However long that might be.

tbc…


	2. Chapter 2

I want to take just a moment to thank you all for your incredibly warm welcome to my story. I'm blown away by all the reviews and alerts I've received. I truly appreciate it and am now just hoping the story continues to entertain you! Thank you for reading and do let me know what you think!

Many thanks as always to my beta JoaniexJony. You know how awesome I think you are, girl! *muah*

Please see standard medical disclaimer from Chapter 1, for there be whump ahead….

Chapter Two

"You're sure you left your geography book here?" Rachel threw the car into park and glanced at Grace in the passenger's seat. "It's not somewhere in your room at home?"

"Uh uh," Grace shook her head, her pigtails bouncing. "It's here."

"Okay," Rachel sighed, climbing out of the car. "Let's go get it."

Rachel rested her hand on Grace's back as they walked down the sidewalk to Danny's apartment.

"Is it going to rain?" Grace asked, peering up at the grey sky.

"Probably," Rachel replied. "Let's try and get home before it starts, okay?"

"Okay," Grace nodded amiably.

"Are you ready for your math test tomorrow?" Rachel asked.

"Um hmm." Grace skipped to Danny's front door. "Danno helped me."

Rachel stepped up to Danny's door and knocked. She glanced at Grace in puzzlement when there was no response. "Do you think he went out?"

Grace shrugged her shoulders.

Rachel glanced around. Danny's Camaro was still in the lot but his shades were drawn and it didn't look like any lights were on inside. They'd been nearly home before Grace realized she didn't have her book. Rachel hadn't bothered to call Danny; she'd assumed he would be home. She wasn't happy about entering her ex-husband's apartment without his consent, but Grace needed her geography book and she figured their daughter's schoolwork would qualify as an emergency. She reached into her purse and pulled out her set of keys.

She fit the key into the lock, pushed the door open and let out of small cry of surprise. The smell of gas was overwhelming.

"Danny!" She called, her eyes roving the small apartment. "Are you in there?" She gasped when she finally found him: sprawled on the kitchen floor, unmoving. "Danny," she shouted urgently. When he didn't answer she turned around, grabbed her daughter's shoulders and shoved her backwards, away from the door and the smell of gas.

"Stay back, Grace. Stay away from the door!" she said sternly. She reached into her purse and fumbled for her cell phone.

"Where's Daddy?" Grace asked, her dark eyes huge with fear. "Is Danno okay?"

"I'm going to get him out," Rachel said fiercely, speaking into the phone as soon as the 911 operator picked up. "My name is Rachel Edwards. I need paramedics and the fire department at 2085 Ala Wai Blvd, Apartment 7. There's a gas leak in my ex-husband's apartment. His name is Detective Danny Williams. He's unconscious and not responding to my voice. I'm handing you over to my daughter."

Rachel shoved the phone into Grace's small hands and kissed the little girl on the forehead. "Stay on the line with them. Daddy's going to be fine, sweetheart."

Pulling the collar of her shirt over her mouth and nose, Rachel ran into the tiny apartment. Quickly reaching her ex-husband, she knelt at Danny's side. Blood welled on his right temple; it had matted in his blonde hair and pooled on the tile floor. "Danny!" She shook his shoulder and lightly patted his cheek. When he still didn't respond, she pressed trembling fingers to his neck, faint with relief when she felt a pulse. It was weak and thready, but he was alive.

"Hang on Danny," Rachel said, positioning her hands under his armpits. "I'm going to get you out of here." He was too heavy for her to lift, so she settled into a half crouch, hefting up his head and back until they rested against her chest. Then she began to scoot backwards. His body was a dead weight, his feet dragged along the floor and his head lolled against her shoulder. Inch by inch she made her way out of the kitchen and into the living room.

She was sweating and dizzy by the time she reached the doorway.

"We're almost there, Daniel. Help's on the way," she said breathlessly. "Just hold on." She pulled him over the threshold and continued to drag him until they were several feet from the doorway but still under the protective awning. Finally she collapsed to the ground, her arms still around Danny's chest, his head cushioned against her shoulder. She felt his heart beating faintly under her fingertips.

Desperately she sucked in fresh air, fighting lightheadness.

"Danno?"

Rachel's head whipped up at her daughter's querulous voice. The little girl was standing stock still, as if paralyzed with fear. The cell phone slipped from her fingers and dropped to the ground with a small thud.

"It's okay baby, he's going to be okay," Rachel gasped, attempting to speak with an authority she didn't feel. She tightened her hold around Danny and closed her eyes. The air was heavy with the impending smell of rain and she concentrated on slowly breathing in and out. She opened her eyes, grateful to find the world had stopped spinning.

Danny groaned, his eyelids fluttering briefly.

"Daniel?" Rachel bent forward, softly sweeping her thumb over his cheek. "Daniel, can you hear me?"

"Daddy?" Grace's voice was a feathery whisper and she sank down next to her father, her hands in her lap.

Rachel desperately fought back tears. Grace was terrified enough; she couldn't afford to break down in front of her daughter. "He's going to be okay, Gracie." Blindly she reached out for Grace's hands, squeezing hard when she grabbed hold of them. "Even your father needs a moment of silence now and then. He's going to be okay." Relief overwhelmed her when she finally heard the sirens drawing closer and then heard the engines of the ambulance and fire truck rumble into the parking lot.

Rachel barely noticed as people began to spill out of their apartments, drawn by the commotion. She barely registered the whispers and gasps of surprise. She was focused only on the paramedics as they drew closer, pulling a gurney loaded with equipment. She wiggled out from beneath Danny, pulled Grace into her arms, and gave them the room they needed to work.

The wind whipped up, tossing leaves down the sidewalk. The grey leaden clouds finally burst, releasing a torrent of rain.

The paramedics knelt next to Danny. One of them, a young man, glanced over at Rachel. "My name's Joshua. We're going to take good care of him, Ma'am. What's his name?"

"Danny Williams. Detective Danny Williams," Rachel replied.

"Has he been conscious at all?" Joshua asked, flashing a penlight into Danny's eyes.

"Not really," Rachel shook her head. "He was unconscious when I found him. The smell of gas in the apartment was overwhelming. I assume it overcame him and he hit his head when he fell."

Rachel wrapped her arms tightly around Grace's shoulders as the paramedics fit a C-collar around Danny's neck and then rolled him onto a backboard, securing him to it with several black straps. Joshua secured an oxygen mask over Danny's face even as his partner inserted an IV line.

"You're his family?" Joshua asked as his partner began taking Danny's vitals.

"Yes," Rachel said faintly.

"You can ride with us to the hospital."

Smoothly Joshua and his partner transferred Danny to the gurney; they covered him with a yellow tarp to protect him from the rain and began rolling him towards the ambulance.

Rachel nodded numbly, stumbling slightly as she and Grace followed the paramedics. She found herself praying for the same thing she had every day all those years ago when Danny had left the house for work: that today wouldn't be the day Grace lost her father, and Rachel lost the man she loved.

H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50

Chin Ho Kelly stood in the doorway of Danny Williams' apartment and tried to quell his rising sense of unease. The rain had slowed to a steady drizzle, but the cloud bank hung thick and heavy over the island, bringing dusk on several hours early.

As soon as HPD had informed him of Danny's accident, he'd rushed to the hospital, expecting to see Steve already there. He wasn't. Nor did he answer his phone. As Chin paced the hospital hallway, every nerve in his body was screaming that something was very, very wrong. Despite his unwillingness to leave the hospital before knowing if Danny was going to be all right, realistically he knew there was nothing he could for his friend by staying. HPD wasn't investigating; they were willing to believe Danny's accident was an accident. Chin wasn't so sure. And if Danny was still in danger, he had to know.

Kono dashed across the lawn, seemingly oblivious to the rain. She drew up short in front of Chin, print kit in her hand, and shook the water from her hair. "What are we doing here, cous? Did you find Steve?"

"No," Chin replied, taking the print kit from Kono and moving deeper into the apartment. He walked into the kitchen and bent down to study the stovetop. "He's not home, his phone continues to go straight to voicemail, and his boat's gone."

"His boat's gone?" Kono raised her eyebrows in surprise. "In this weather? He knows better than that."

"Yes, he does," Chin said slowly.

"What are you thinking, cous?" Kono put her hands on her hips, her eyes drawn to the large blotch of tacky blood on the floor.

"You tell me," Chin ghosted a finger over the countertop edges, peering closely at them.

"You think this wasn't an accident," she said flatly, swiveling to survey the apartment through a new set of lenses.

"Tell me why," Chin prompted her.

Kono stepped up to the countertop Chin had just been looking at. Her eyes narrowed grimly. "The fire department's supposition is that overwhelmed by the gas, Danny fell, hitting his head on the counter with enough force to knock him out, which is why he wasn't able to get out of the apartment." She looked up at her cousin. "There's no blood on the counter. Just the floor."

"Now," Chin nodded approvingly, "go look outside."

Kono walked to the doorway, her brow furrowing in concentration. "Oh my god," she said in surprise, her fingers hovering over a section of the doorframe. "There's blood spatter. He was hit out here."

"And then dragged inside and dumped on the kitchen floor. They turned on the gas and left him to die." Chin finished.

"If Rachel and Grace hadn't come back…" Kono shivered, her skin turning to gooseflesh. She looked up sharply at her cousin. "And what about Steve?"

"I've already called the Coast Guard," Chin said worriedly. "Seas are too rough from the storm right now for them to initiate a search."

"You think this is Teer? Payback for busting his warehouse last Friday?" Kono asked.

Chin frowned. "Someone wanted us to think this was an accident. That's not exactly Teer's style."

Kono fished her phone out of her jeans pocket. "I'm calling HPD. I want someone on Danny's door 24/7."

Chin smiled approvingly at his cousin's initiative as he popped open the print kit and began meticulously dusting the stovetop. Two members of his team were down. Steve was in trouble. Chin could feel it in his bones. He needed answers. And he needed them fast.

H5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5O

He drifted in a silky mist of grey fog. Its tendrils coldly caressed his face. Thick and heavy, it absorbed all sound. It swaddled him like a blanket, but it offered no warmth, no comfort. The rain had lessened, but it continued to fall steadily, each drop silently absorbed into the rocking swells of the sea. Steve shivered, his entire body jerking so uncontrollably that he feared the spasms would rip him apart. His eyes wouldn't stay open. His body was going numb and he was so damn tired he was ready to give himself over to the darkness if it meant he could feel the slightest bit of warmth.

"_Son, hypothermia is your biggest enemy if you end up in the water. The second you go to sleep, you are done for. You hear me? Stay awake, son. You need to stay awake."_

"'m tired, Dad," Steve chattered. "'m so tired."

"_The water will try to sap your will to live. At your first opportunity you have to get out of the water and get dry. Pay attention Steven McGarrett! Get out of the water as soon as you can."_

"Wish I could Dad," Steve forced his eyes open. "Got nothin' though. No land. No boat. No raft."

"_Son, you have to hang on. Help is coming. But you have to hold on until it does."_

"Drifting further and further from land, Dad." Steve murmured, resting his head against the life preserver. He closed his eyes. "Don't even know where I am anymore. Can't see the stars."

"_Don't close your eyes, Son. Don't go to sleep. Keep talking. Stay vigilant. Help will come."_

"Wish we could talk, Dad." Steve sighed. "Wish you could tell me what you knew. I lost the Champ box. Guess you already know that. I thought I got the guy who killed you, but it wasn't that simple, was it? It wasn't just you. Mom was murdered too. What were you investigating, Dad? When you died, did you find out the truth? When I die, will I see you again? Will I see Mom?" Steve's voice cracked. "I'd really like that… to see Mom again. It might even make dying out here worth it, if I could see her one more time."

Steve's voice trailed off, his face so cold he didn't feel his tears mingling with the rain on his cheeks. His head lolled to the side. The darkness expanded, enveloping his shaking body in a veil of warmth; it lifted him and caressed him and comforted him. It whispered in his ears of peace and quiet and sun kissed shores where his parents walked barefoot holding hands. And finally he let it take him.

H5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5O

Dr. Noah Beckham loved Hawaii: The weather. The waves. Deep sea diving. Mountain climbing. Pineapple on pizza. The moment he'd set foot on Hawaiian soil fifteen years ago, he knew he'd found his place in the universe. He also loved his job. When he'd graduated from high school, he'd had no idea what he wanted to do with his life. He'd joined the Marines and trained as a medic. That's when he knew he'd found his calling.

He went to medical school and specialized in sports medicine, extending his studies to encompass any type of injury incurred through outdoor activity. Noah treated anything from the torn ligaments of high school athletes to the bends of deep sea divers and had been instrumental in procuring decompression chambers for Hawaii Medical Center. He was the best in his field, which was why he'd been called in on Detective Danny Williams' case. Hyperbaric oxygen therapy was one of the most effective treatments for carbon monoxide poisoning.

Noah glanced across the treatment room and smiled sympathetically at his patient's family. The room was designed for the comfort of family members as much as for the medical treatment of their loved one. This unit housed a monoplace chamber. Essentially it was the bed of a gurney which propped their patient at a thirty degree angle and slid in and out of a large transparent plexi-glass tube. The medical staff tended to their patient from outside the tube; only intravenous lines and monitor leads penetrated the hull. Monitoring equipment was positioned off to the side as well as a work station that housed a computer. When a patient was in the chamber, he was attended to by a nurse at all times. And when he was Noah's patient, he remained as close by as much as other emergencies allowed. Noah believed that medicine was half science and half heart. He knew every one of his patient's names; lived by the creed that they were people, not cases. He knew he was in the minority of his colleagues, but he didn't care. Compassion took little effort but it was the most important, and essential, part of his job.

A comfortable couch, chairs and a coffee table were set up along the opposite wall, offering a view of the hyperbaric chamber while leaving plenty of room for the staff to work. The little girl, Grace, was sitting in one of the chairs studiously working on a drawing. Her mother Rachel was curled up on the couch, staring into space and biting at a nail. They'd begun Danny's oxygen therapy several hours ago and just completed the first round. As Noah's nurse, Leilani, pulled Danny from the chamber in order to draw some blood, he picked up his tablet and walked over to his patient's family, taking a seat on the coffee table.

"How are you two hanging in there?" he asked warmly. "Can we get you anything?"

Rachel's eyes darted past Noah, watching as Leilani secured an oxygen mask over Danny's nose and mouth and then proceeded to begin taking his vitals, inputting the results into the computer which would then upload to Noah's tablet. Finally Rachel tore her eyes from her ex-husband and looked at his doctor.

"How is Daniel? Is he going to be okay now?" Rachel asked, leaning forward.

At the last question, Grace set her crayons down and looked up at her father's doctor expectantly.

Noah gently explained, "We've completed our first round of therapy. Leilani is running arterial blood gases to see how we're progressing." Noah brought up a graphic on the tablet and then turned it so both Rachel and Grace could see it. "This is a normal blood cell." He ran his finger over the tablet's touchscreen, bringing up a second image. "And this is what Danny's blood cells looked like when he was brought in. Carbon monoxide attaches itself to the hemoglobin and lowers the oxygen levels. So we've been having Danny breathe pure oxygen under pressure so the good oxygen can force the bad carbon monoxide out of the cells. We may have to complete two or three more therapy treatments before Danny's blood cells return to normal."

"Why hasn't he woken up yet?" Rachel asked, nervously clutching her hands in her lap.

"That's another question altogether, Mrs. Edwards," Noah said, casting a careful glance at her daughter. "Danny's condition is complicated by the head injury, and I've actually called in a colleague to consult. She should be here any moment. She'll be able to review the results of Danny's CAT scan with you. In the meantime," Noah smiled at Grace. "How would you like to visit with your father while your mom and I do all this boring doctor talk?"

Grace nodded shyly, leaving the half completed drawing and crayons on the chair as she took Noah's hand and walked with him to Danny's bed. Noah lifted her onto a tall rolling chair near the head of Danny's bed before introducing her to the nurse.

"Grace, this is Leilani. If you need anything, you just ask her." He gently squeezed the little girl's shoulder. "You okay?"

Grace nodded slowly, her eyes wide as she took in the oxygen mask covering her father's face, the white bandage circling his head, the numerous wires that snaked under his hospital gown and the IV lines running into the back of both hands. She began reaching for Danny's hand, and then stopped and looked questioningly at Noah.

"You can touch him. It's okay to talk to him, too," Noah encouraged her. "I'm sure he'd love to hear your voice right now."

Noah smiled as Grace carefully entwined her small fingers into Danny's and began to regale him with the latest news from school. Her voice began a timid whisper, but it gained strength the longer she spoke. He looked up as the door to the unit opened and Dr. Akilah Imani swept into the room. She was a member of his medical group and one of his best friends in the world, but that didn't stop him from admiring the figure she struck. Nearly six feet tall, she had dark probing eyes that missed absolutely nothing and skin the color of creamy mocha. She'd been born in France but had spent the better part of her childhood following her missionary father through various parts of Nigeria. It had left her with an accent that was an interesting mix of the two languages.

"Kiki," he smiled warmly, ushering her towards Rachel. "Thank you for coming."

"Of course, cher," she kissed him lightly on the cheek and then offered her hand to Rachel. "I'm Dr. Imani. I'm a neurologist. Noah asked for my opinion on Detective Williams' scans."

"A neurologist," Rachel repeated faintly. "Are you telling me he's going to need brain surgery?"

"I hope not," Kiki sat down in one of the chairs, elegantly crossing her legs. "But I did find something on the scans that concerns me, a blemish that could indicate a brain bleed."

Rachel bit her lip in a futile attempt to hold back tears. Noah handed her a box of tissues and Rachel took one gratefully, dabbing at her eyes.

"I don't want to scare you, Mrs. Edwards," Kiki said sympathetically. "And to be perfectly honest, it could be nothing; the blemish just a flaw in the scan. We'll re-run the scan tomorrow and see what we see."

"And if it is there again?" Rachel asked, twisting the tissue in her fingers. "What then?"

"It would depend on the bleed," Kiki said seriously. "Sometimes we can treat with medication and the bleed resolves itself. If medication doesn't work or the bleed is too big, then we would need to operate. But I don't want us to get ahead of ourselves. Let's get Danny through the carbon monoxide poisoning first and then run the second scan. The good news here is that hyperbaric oxygen therapy has the added benefit of reducing swelling of the brain, so Danny's getting the best of all care. I don't want you worrying about this until we know there's something to worry about."

Noah's tablet beeped. He swiped the screen, studying it for several moments before he looked up at Rachel. "I just got the results of the blood gas. He's doing better, but we're not there yet. We'll put him back in the chamber and do another round."

Rachel nodded, slumping wearily in her seat. "Thank you," she said softly. "Thank you both for all you're doing."

Kiki reached over and took Rachel's hand, squeezing it hard. "We're going to do everything we can to get him through this. Noah's the best. And quite frankly, so am I. You just hang in there, okay? Eat something. Get some rest. It's important you maintain your strength."

Rachel nodded, carefully swiping away her tears before standing up and following the doctors to Danny's bedside. She stood behind Grace, gently squeezing her daughter's shoulders as Leilani slid Danny's bed back inside the hyperbaric chamber.

Noah gave Kiki a small wave as she let herself out of the hospital room, and then made a few notations to Danny's chart on his tablet. He'd just glanced away from the monitors when he noticed a pair of blue eyes slowly blinking up at him in confusion.

Noah smiled, flipped on the intercom for the chamber, and leaned down towards his patient. "Good to see you back with us. Can you tell me your name?"

Danny turned his head towards Noah and winced. "Detective Danny Williams," he said, his voice raspy.

"Excellent," Noah smiled again. He nodded towards Grace, who was leaning excitedly over the chamber, her little hands pressed against the plexiglass. "Do you know who that is?"

Danny slowly turned his head, smiling when he caught sight of his daughter. "Monkey," he said, his hand drifting upwards. He pressed his fingers to the glass, until they were directly under Grace's.

"Danno," the little girl crowed happily.

"Do you remember what happened?" Noah asked.

Danny tore his eyes from his daughter and looked back towards the doctor. He shook his head, immediately regretting it as he winced and quickly closed his eyes. His hand dropped to his side. He breathed deeply through his nose and mouth and then re-opened his eyes.

"That's not unexpected," Noah explained when his patient was looking at him again. "You were exposed to carbon monoxide and as a result you fell, sustaining a head injury as well. When you were brought in, your carboxyhemoglobin levels were near fifty percent. They've dropped to thirty, but until we get them down to less than ten, we'll continue to administer hyperbaric oxygen therapy. How are you feeling?"

"Head hurts," Danny mumbled, struggling to keep his eyes open. His hand weakly fluttered at his side.

"That's consistent with your injuries too, I'm afraid," Noah nodded sympathetically. He nodded towards Leilani and she quickly readied a syringe. "We can give you a little top up of pain medication." Leilani injected the medication into one of the IV lines and Noah nodded with satisfaction as Danny's eyes grew even droopier.

Rachel leaned over the chamber and said soothingly, "It's okay, Daniel. Go back to sleep."

"You'll be here?" Danny slurred, still attempting to fight the drowsiness pulling him under.

"We'll be here," Rachel said firmly.

"Wha' 'bout Stan…" Danny breathed. He lost his battle to keep his eyes open. His hands relaxed as he drifted into sleep.

Noah saw Rachel blink back tears. She put her hand on top of the chamber. "I'll be here as long as you need me Daniel," she whispered.

"Governor Jameson said he was a fighter," Noah said softly. "I'm glad to see she was right."

"Is he going to be okay?" Rachel asked, her eyes still on Danny.

"It's a good sign that he regained consciousness and is lucid and aware. It's definite progress," Noah said encouragingly. "Look if you want to go home, get some rest, I'll call you when we're through with his treatments and get him settled into a room."

"No," Grace interjected loudly, shaking her head. She twisted around on the chair to look at her mother. "Daddy needs us _here_."

Rachel gently pulled on one of Grace's pigtails. "We'll stay. But how about while Daddy takes a nap, you do as well, okay?"

Grace nodded, reluctantly slipping down from the chair.

"I'll arrange for some blankets and pillows," Noah said as Rachel led Grace back to the couch. "I'll wake you if he wakes up again."

"Thank you very much, Dr. Beckham," Rachel said. "We appreciate everything you're doing, for Daniel and for us." She grinned wryly. "I didn't know they made doctors like you anymore."

"You're welcome," Noah replied, shrugging off the compliment. He called housekeeping and ordered the pillows and blankets before returning to his patient's side. Detective Williams still had a long way to go, but he was moving in the right direction and at this point, Noah figured, that was all that mattered.

tbc…


	3. Chapter 3

Many many thanks to all of you who've taken the time to leave a review! It means a great deal to a writer to get feedback. Mahalo!

Again, heartfelt thanks to JoaniexJony for being my beta and for all the sound advice you continue to give!

Hope you enjoy this chapter and if you have moment, please review. I always like to hear your thoughts. Thank you for reading!

Chapter Three

He wasn't sure what woke him up, the aching pain in his head or the soft rustling at his side. It was a little disconcerting because he didn't remember going to sleep. He didn't remember tucking Grace into bed or reading her a bedtime story. He knew he needed to get up to check on her, but was filled with an overwhelming sense of lethargy and even opening his eyes seemed like too daunting a task to attempt. But fatherly duty was instinctual and he opened them anyway. The light made the pain worse and he couldn't hold back a groan as he lowered his eyelids to half mast and tried to make the room come into focus. Danny certainly didn't remember doing anything to deserve the hangover sized headache.

"Danny? Daniel?"

His confusion mounted at the sound of his ex-wife's concerned voice. He felt her hand slide against his palm, her slender fingers curling around his in a comforting squeeze.

"Rachel?" he moaned softly, turning his head towards her voice. He squinted up at her, his blue eyes slits. Something uncomfortable was covering his nose and mouth. He tried to reach up and pull it away.

"Leave that alone, Daniel," Rachel caught his hand, carefully easing it back down to his side. "Do you remember what happened?"

Danny forced his eyes open, taking in his surroundings. A monitor beeped steadily to his left, a wavy line marched across the screen. I.V. bags hung from stands on both sides of his bed, the tubing snaking along the mattress and disappearing under gauze taped to the back of both hands. Something bulky and plastic was clipped to his right index finger. He looked at Rachel in bewilderment. "Why am I in the hospital?" His voice was muffled by what he now guessed to be an oxygen mask.

"You don't remember?" Rachel asked cautiously.

"Rachel, what happened?" Danny felt his heart begin to race in agitation. What had happened to him? Had he been injured on the job? Had he been in an accident? Had Grace been with him? His fingers clamped down around Rachel's. "Did you pick up Grace? Is she okay?" He tried to sit up only to be stopped by a shooting pain through his head. He fell back against the pillows, gasping for breath. The heart monitor bleated an alarm.

"Danno?"

Danny turned his head towards his daughter's scared voice. The panic receded and he reached his hand towards her. "Monkey," he rasped in relief. He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her towards him. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. She carefully wrapped her arms around his shoulders, resting her cheek on his chest. He traced reassuring circles on her back with one hand.

He closed his eyes against the pounding in his head. He lay that way for several minutes, content with his daughter wrapped safe and sound in his arms. Then, despite the pain, he opened his eyes, pushed the oxygen mask off his face and stared at his ex wife with determination. "Rachel, just tell me what happened."

"We're not exactly sure," she answered, glancing up as the hospital door opened and Dr. Noah Beckham entered, followed closely by Chin Ho Kelly.

Grace pulled herself up, stepping away from the bed and leaning against her mother as Noah approached Danny's bed.

"Good morning, Detective Williams," Noah said cheerily. "Nice to see you back with us. I'm Dr. Beckham. We met briefly last night though you may not remember. I've been treating you since they brought you in."

The doctor held his hand out and Danny reached over and took it. Instead of a long white coat, this doctor wore cargo pants, pockets bulging with various medical paraphernalia, and a navy blue t-shirt.

Danny let his hand drop to his side. "I've been trying to find out exactly why I was brought in," he said. He winced as the pounding in his head intensified. He closed his eyes, lifting his hand to massage his aching brow.

"This kind of short term memory loss is not unusual," Noah reassured him, pulling a penlight out of one of his pants pockets. Efficiently he peeled back each of Danny's eyelids, flashing the light back and forth across the pupils.

Danny stiffened at the examination, biting back a groan so as not to scare Grace. His hands twitched at his sides until the doctor finally seemed satisfied and put the offending penlight away.

Noah snagged a nearby rolling stool with his foot and took a seat next to the bed. "Your brain got knocked around a little bit. How is still a bit of a question," the doctor glanced over at Chin. "On top of that, you were exposed to high levels of carbon monoxide. You spent most of the night inside a hyperbaric oxygen chamber."

Danny stared at his doctor in utter confusion. Nothing was making any sense.

"What's the last thing you do remember, brah?" Chin stepped up to the end of bed.

Danny let his head sink back against the pillow. He closed his eyes and tried to pull up everything that had happened in recent memory. He opened them again. "I was helping Grace with her math homework."

"What day was that?" Chin asked intently.

"Saturday morning," Danny responded, studying Chin's face in return. Chin had a great poker face, but Danny knew him well enough to know his teammate was troubled, worried about something bigger than when Danny's memory gave out. "Why? What day is it today?" He glanced around, something that had been gnawing at the back of his mind for several minutes leapt to the fore. "Where's Steve?" he asked sharply.

"It's Monday morning," Chin answered quietly. "And we don't know where Steve is. He disappeared sometime yesterday. At about the same time I believe you were attacked."

Before the words were even out of Chin's mouth Danny had thrown back the covers, pulling himself to a sitting position and swinging his legs around the side of the bed. IV lines and monitor wires tangled, ensnaring him even as the pain in his head spiked. The world began to go black around the edges and he swayed. He would have pitched forward off the bed had Noah not leapt up and grabbed his shoulders, gently guiding him back against the pillows.

"All right, we'll have none of that, Detective," Noah said sternly as he lifted Danny's legs back onto the bed and covered them with the blankets. He looked over at Chin. "I understand you have questions, but I need to examine my patient, and I need to run some tests. When I'm done, and if he's up to it, you can talk to him. Until then, I'm going to need to ask everyone to leave." Noah peered critically at the monitors, assessing his patient's condition.

"No," Danny protested weakly, the fog only slightly receding. "I need to know what happened to Steve." He forced his eyes open, only to clamp them shut again with a tight groan as the room spun wildly around him. The pain in his head increased. His stomach roiled. He felt the oxygen mask clamped to his face. Cool air swirled under his nose and around his mouth.

"Daddy!" Grace cried out in fear.

Danny moved his head towards his daughter's voice. Keeping his eyes tightly shut, he flopped an arm towards her and tried to reassure her. "I'm okay, babe. I'm okay."

"Just take slow deep breaths, Detective," Noah said. He adjusted the straps of the oxygen mask around Danny's head, securing it in place. He snagged one of Danny's hands, pressing his fingers to the pulse point on his wrist.

Rachel bent down, wrapping her arms around her daughter's shoulders. "Your father's going to be fine, sweetheart. The doctor's taking good care of him. It's time I got you home, so we're going to leave for a while, and we'll come back to visit Danny later. Okay?"

"It's okay Grace," Noah nodded, smiling at the girl across the bed. He winked at her. "Your dad just moved a little too fast, and his body didn't like it. We're just going to have to help him take it a little slower. By the time you come back, I bet he'll be feeling a whole lot better."

Grace nodded, her eyes still wide. She leaned over the bed and carefully kissed her father on the cheek. "I love you Danno," she whispered.

"I love you too, Monkey," Danny said, his breath fogging the oxygen mask. He cracked his eyes open slightly, found her hand and squeezed it tightly. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"We'll be back," Rachel leaned down and smiled at her ex husband. "So you be good and do what the doctor tells you, all right?"

"Thanks Rachel," Danny said, watching as she led his daughter from the room.

He glanced over at Chin, holding up one hand to stop his teammate from leaving. "Chin, wait." He looked at Noah. "I won't try to get up, but I need to know what happened to Steve. And I need to know what happened to me."

"Fine," Noah glanced at his watch. "You have five minutes while I arrange for those tests, but there are rules. You leave that on," the doctor pointed to the oxygen mask. "I don't like the way your SATs dropped earlier. As soon as the nurse comes in here, Mr. Kelly leaves. Got it?"

Danny nodded carefully. His head was still pounding, the room spinning as if he'd had way too much scotch. But he needed to know what Chin knew.

After Noah left, Chin sat down next to Danny's bed. "Like I said, we don't know exactly what happened, brah. Rachel drove back to your place to get Grace's geography book. She found you unconscious on your kitchen floor. You had a head wound and gas was leaking from your oven."

"Rachel found me?" Danny interrupted, arching an eyebrow in surprise.

"She saved your life, brah," Chin nodded. "She pulled you out of that apartment."

"You said I was attacked," Danny prodded, still chewing over the knowledge that he owed his ex-wife his life. "What made you think of that other than the fact that I don't use my stove?"

Chin grinned slightly. "There was blood spatter on your doorframe, and none on your kitchen counter. I think someone hit you outside, and then dragged you inside and turned on the gas."

"And Steve?" Danny asked, his eyes worried.

Chin sighed. "We haven't been able to locate him. He's not answering his cell. His boat's gone. About the same time someone attacked you, two kids out kayaking in Kawela Bay saw a plume of smoke on the horizon."

"Kawela Bay," Danny muttered, his mouth setting in a grim line. He rubbed at his aching forehead, his fingers working at the bandage that covered his head. Something lingered just out of reach. Something important. And then he remembered. His heart sank in his chest. "Steve told me Friday before we left work that he was going out there on Sunday. He invited me along, but I had Grace."

"You've just confirmed our suspicions," Chin nodded in resignation. "I know it's one of Steve's favorite spots, so we've been exploring the possibility that his boat went down out there since last night. Kono is back at HQ working out the ocean currents to see if she can locate the wreckage."

"If Steve went into the water, he could have been swept out to sea," Danny said, his heart sinking.

"Kono's working on that too. Lt. Rollins has offered the help of the Enterprise in the search, and the Coast Guard sent search helicopters out this morning. We're doing everything we can to find him, Danny." Chin tried to reassure him.

"If he's been in the water since yesterday afternoon, what are the chances he's still alive?" Danny asked, fear roiling in his stomach.

"I don't know," Chin answered, his dark eyes grave. "But it's Steve. If anyone can survive this, it's him."

The door opened and curly haired nurse carrying an instrument tray entered the room. "Detective Williams," she said cheerily. "My name's Rayna. I'm your nurse today until the shift change at three. I need to do a vitals check and then Dr. Beckham's ordered some blood draws and an MRI."

Chin lightly touched Danny's ankle as Rayna began attending to her patient. "That's my cue, brah. I'll check back later."

Danny glanced up as Rayna snagged his arm, wrapping a blood pressure cuff around his bicep. "Call me as soon as you know anything."

"You got it, brah." Chin said, nodding at the HPD officer stationed outside as he pulled the door closed behind him.

Danny watched his teammate leave and stared at the door in frustration. His head pounded; his stomach churned; his arms and legs felt like dead weights he was too weak to lift. He felt helpless and he hated it. His body was betraying him when Steve needed him the most. He felt a sharp pinch in his arm and watched as his blood spurted into the small collection vial, swirling all the way to the top. Rayna smiled down at him as she removed the tube and replaced it with a second one. Determination coursed through him. This weakness wouldn't last forever. He would get better. And when he did, he was going to find the son of a bitch who'd done this to him, to Steve, and he was going to make him pay.

H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50

Kono's hands flew over the control table in the main conference room at 5-0 headquarters. An hour earlier she'd sent a search grid to Catherine. She'd spent most of the day running programs to determine the path of the ocean's currents, factoring in variables from the storm. The Enterprise was coordinating the search with the Coast Guard and its infirmary was ready to act as a trauma center if Steve was found closer to the cruiser than shore. Kono wouldn't let herself use the word if, if Steve was found. They had to find him. They just had to.

Tears sprang to Kono's eyes. HQ was quiet. Too quiet. No Steve. No Danny. No arguing. No blustering. She missed it. She missed them. They were her big brothers who could tear each other to shreds but god help anyone else who attempted it. They loved each other like brothers and fought like them too. A tissue was suddenly pressed into her hand. She looked up in surprise. Serious blue eyes stared back at her. She recognized the girl, but couldn't place her name. Kono thought she'd joined the staff several months ago, and despite the drab janitorial outfit, the girl's slender figure had still managed to turn a few heads.

"There's been no word then?" The pretty blonde asked.

Kono shook her head. "No. The Coast Guard just started the grid search for Steve. But the good news is we may have found Steve's boat. Chin is out supervising the recovery of the wreckage. We're hoping it will tell us something about what happened."

"And Detective Williams?" the girl asked worriedly, slightly blushing.

"He's doing okay," Kono smiled. "Thanks for asking, I'm sure he'd appreciate your concern."

"That's good," the girl nodded, letting out a sigh of relief. She ran shaky fingers through her pale hair. "That's good."

"I'm sorry, I feel like I should know your name," Kono apologized with a friendly smile.

"Hayley," she replied shyly, "Hayley Peterson."

"Hayley," Kono groaned good-naturedly. "Of course, I totally knew that."

"I'll say a prayer for Lt. Commander McGarrett," the girl murmured.

"Thanks, that means a lot," Kono reached out and took the girl's hand, squeezing it slightly. "We're going to find him. I just know it."

"I hope so," Hayley nodded, her blue eyes troubled. She pulled her hand away from Kono's and returned to her supply cart, pushing it down the hall.

With a sigh Kono turned her attention back to the control trouble. She was running threat assessments, looking for anyone who might have had an ax to grind with both Steve and Danny. She'd pulled herself and Chin out of the equation since they'd not been targeted. The program had been spitting out possible suspects for the past two hours and she was already developing a migraine. There were too many. But the only way around was through, so one by one she began pulling up each case file. Somewhere in there was the person or persons who'd done this to Steve and Danny, and she was going to find them. She owed her big brothers that much.

H5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5O

Chin Ho Kelly leaned against the rail of the coastguard cutter and tried desperately to hold on to hope. What was left of Steve's boat had been found not far from where Kono had predicted it would be, about forty feet below the surface of the water, hung up on a sand bar. Large sections of the boat were still intact, and it hadn't taken long to make a positive I.D. What they hadn't found was any sign of Steve's body. Coast Guard helicopters buzzed overhead, systematically searching the surrounding waters, but so far they'd found nothing.

He glanced at his watch. If Steve had survived the explosion, then he had most likely been in the water for nearly twenty hours, and would already be hypothermic. Dehydration wouldn't be far behind. And that was if he managed to keep his head above water. Chin tightened his grip around the hand rail. He looked away from the vast horizon, focusing his eyes instead on where Steve's boat had gone down. The Coast Guard was being tactful, but Chin could see the grim reality in their eyes. They held out little hope for rescue. And though they weren't officially calling the mission one of recovery, they didn't expect to find Steve McGarrett alive, if they found him at all.

A diver broke the surface, pulling off his mouthpiece. "We've got bomb fragments down here," he yelled at Chin. He held up a clear plastic bag filled with something black and twisted. With strong strokes, he cut through the water, handing the bag to another Coast Guard officer.

"Gather everything you can," Chin ordered. "We need to get it back to the lab."

The diver nodded, disappearing back under the surface.

Chin closed his eyes, turned his face to the sky, and prayed to the Ancestors for a miracle.

H5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5O

_Steve drifted in a dark void. He dreamed, his memories stabbing at him like daggers. Explosions and gunfire. Screams and death. Bodies lying strewn on the battlefield like broken dolls: ripped apart, riddled with bullets, gaping wounds oozing blood and bones, revealing muscle and sinew. Their lifeless eyes stared at him in accusation: those he'd killed and those he hadn't been able to save. Grief, anger and fear coiled around his limbs like ropes; they twisted and pulled, bit and pinched, scratched and clawed, merciless and unrelenting; his body was a torment from which there was no escape. All he knew was dark and cold and pain._

"_Shhhh…." A soothing voice whispered in his ear. _

_The bonds began to loosen. Other memories, happier memories, began to edge out the horror and violence. A tender hand caressed his brow. He felt warm breath and soft lips against his cheek. _

"_Remember," the voice whispered. It was a melodious contralto that Steve would have recognized anywhere._

"_Mom?" he moaned, his heart breaking. He opened his eyes to a world of fog and shadows. "Mom, where are you?"_

"_Remember." Her voice danced on the wind and he followed. _

_The anger and the fear and grief began to subside and then suddenly he was falling, tumbling down an abyss of sheer light and warmth. He landed on a cushion of soft pillows. He opened his eyes._

_His mother gazed down at him with gentle brown eyes and brushed the hair from his forehead with slender fingers. _

_He remembered. He'd been eight years old and home with the flu._

"_Are you warm enough?" she asked, tucking the blanket snugly around his shoulders. She rested the back of her hand against his cheek._

_He shivered beneath the blanket but nodded anyway. _

"_Always my little stoic, aren't you?" she smiled fondly, running her fingers through his hair. "Hold on, I have just the thing." She returned several minutes later with a hot water bottle, tucking it in at his feet. "Is that better?" _

_Steve nodded sleepily. The shivers were finally receding and drowsiness pulled at him. But when his mother stood up to go, leaning down to gently kiss the top of his head, he reached out from under the covers and snagged her arm._

"_Don't go yet," he protested. "Tell me a story."_

_She sat back down on the edge of the bed. "A story?" she smiled. "Which one should I tell?"_

"_Tell the story of how I was born," Steve burrowed back under the covers and peered at his mother through half closed eyes._

"_Ah, that one," his mother nodded approvingly, "One of my favorites."_

_Gently stroking his hair as she talked, his mother began. "Well, the story really begins the day Etana appeared. I was twelve weeks pregnant with you and your dad and I had just gotten home from the doctor's. And there he was, this huge black husky sprawled across our front porch. Maybe I should have been a little frightened, but when he looked up at me, his eyes were so gentle, so intelligent, I knew instantly I would never have anything to fear from him. Your dad always claimed he was more wolf than dog, and we never did find out for sure what breed he was, but it was clear from the moment we first set eyes on him that he'd decided we were his home."_

_She chuckled as she continued to gently card her fingers through Steve's hair. "Your dad tried to run him off, but I swear that dog just stared at him, implacable, immovable as stone. Your daddy had no idea what to do. He'd finally come up against something as stubborn as he was. I named him Etana, which means strong in Hawaiian." She leaned down and gently kissed her son's forehead. "Every day you grew bigger and bigger inside of me. Etana was never that far from me, from us. If I was in the kitchen, he'd curl up just inside the doorway. When I was sitting in the living room, he'd curl up at my feet. And he took to sleeping on the floor at the foot of the bed every night. And every once in a while, he'd walk up to me and rest his muzzle against my swollen belly, as if he was saying hello to you. He liked to play fetch with the neighborhood kids, and I imagined one day, you'd be out in the front yard playing with him too."_

_Steve's eyes fluttered as sleep strongly beckoned, but he fought it. They were coming up to his favorite part of the story. "Tell me about the day of the storm."_

_His mother nodded, a wistful smile playing across her face. "I was eight months pregnant with you. Your dad had been called in and it was just me and Etana in the house. No one was expecting the storm. It seemed like it came out of no where. Suddenly the wind was howling and rain was pouring down. The power went out, and then the phones. I was trying to reach the candles when a tree branch crashed through the kitchen window, startling me. I lost my footing and fell off the stool. I was stunned for a moment. I tried to stand up, and then I was doubled over by the most painful cramp. And another and another. I was terrified. I didn't know if you were okay, or if you had been injured by my fall. I cried out, but no one heard me. The pain was so bad I couldn't stand, could barely even crawl. I didn't know what to do."_

"_What happened next?" Steve whispered, his eyes huge with expectation. He'd heard the story, many times, but he never tired of his mother telling it._

_His mother's hand stilled on his head, as caught up in the telling as her son. "The next thing I knew, Etana was licking my face, nuzzling my neck with his nose, as if to say everything was going to be okay, and then he ran outside, into the storm. I found out later that he ran all the way to the neighbor's house. He barked and hurled himself at their front door until they finally opened it. They knew him, of course, everyone in the neighborhood did by that time, and they knew something had to be wrong. They followed him back to the house, and they found me. They took me to the hospital, called your dad, and twelve hours later you were born, and you were perfect. The doctors said if we hadn't gotten to the hospital when we did…" Tears moistened her eyes and she leaned down, wrapping her son in her arms. He squirmed, and gently she released him._

"_What happened to Etana?" Steve asked, his eyes again beginning to slip closed._

_She returned to gently stroking Steve's hair with her hand. "We never saw him again. When we got home from the hospital, he was gone, as if he'd never been. He saved both our lives that day, and in my heart of hearts, I know that's why he came to us. He was our protector, in our time of need." _

_Steve dozed off, his mother's soft voice wrapping around him, soothing and comforting. He drifted in and out of memories. Teaching Mary how to surf. His father swinging his mother around in his arms in the kitchen. Dad barbecuing on the back porch as the sun set over the water._

"_Steve," his mom said, "It's time for you to wake up." _

"_Not ready," Steve mumbled, "'M tired."_

"_I know you are," she said, though this time there was iron in her voice. "But you have to wake up anyway."_

Obediently Steve opened his eyes, and as he stared woozily around him, thought he must still be dreaming. The sun was high overhead. Wisps of clouds were all that remained of yesterday's storm. He was gliding through the water, cushioned by the glistening silky bodies of two dolphins. He didn't know where he was, or how long the dolphins had been carrying him that way.

The dolphins came to a stop and Steve felt the chill of the water as their warm bodies broke away from him. There was no land in sight and he found himself wondering if the two creatures had thought him a toy, to be played with as a dog would a ball.

One of the dolphins emitted a series of high pitched clicks and whistles. Steve turned to look at him and his breath caught in his throat, for not ten feet away an empty rowboat rocked gently in the water. Somehow it must have come free of its mooring and drifted out to sea.

Steve stared at the two dolphins in shock. Was it possible? Had these two animals brought him here with a purpose and in so doing, given him a chance at survival?

Steve shook his head. Regardless of how he got here, he needed to get in that boat. With a groan, he lifted his aching arms and pulled off the life preserver, hanging onto the rope with one hand as he slowly swam to the side of the rowboat. Biting his lip, he pitched the life preserver into the boat and gripped the sides with both hands, but his arms were like lead and he didn't have the strength to pull himself up and over. He knocked his forehead against the side of the boat in frustration.

The two dolphins dove under the water. Side by side they swam until they were directly under Steve's feet. They rose to the surface, giving Steve the boost he needed to clamber over the side of the boat. He collapsed to the flooring and flopped onto his back. Panting, he stared up at the blue sky. He knew he needed to get dry, to strip off his wet clothes. But he couldn't move. As the warm sun seeped into his chilled body, exhaustion claimed him and he fell into a deep sleep.

tbc…


	4. Chapter 4

Many thanks to everyone who's left reviews! I always love to hear your reaction to the story, so thank you so much for taking a moment to tell me.

I'd intended to only post two chapters this week, but I got more done on my final revisions than I'd anticipated, so you get an extra chapter :) Next one will most likely be up on Sunday.

And of course, to JoaniexJony, my extraordinary beta: mahalo my friend! :)

I said I wasn't a medical expert...I'm not a bomb expert, either. I've done the best I can without my google searches putting me on a Homeland Security watch list...there's only so much I'll do for fanfic ;-)

On with the show...hope you enjoy it, and please tell me what you think.

Chapter Four

Lt. Catherine Rollins sat down on her bunk and looked up at the lone picture she had pinned to her wall. She and Steve were curled up on Steve's couch, relaxed and smiling. It was the only picture she had of them. Mary had taken it, not long before Steve had sent her away. Before she left, she gave a copy of the photo to Catherine, a tacit acceptance of the woman in Steve's life.

Catherine pulled the photo down from the wall and drew her legs up on the bed. Gently she stroked her thumb over Steve's face. She'd never allowed herself to think too much about what she and Steve were to each other. They had certainly never talked about it. They enjoyed each other's company. He was her lover and her friend. She knew he was faithful to what they had and would remain faithful as long as they were together. But they both understood the demands of military careers and maybe that was why they'd never needed to discuss what existed between them. Their first loves would always be their jobs, and their jobs could take them anywhere at a moment's notice.

Or maybe that was all bunk, just another in a long line of excuses for not committing to a relationship. Now, faced with the prospect of never seeing Steve again, she was hit with the realization that in the last six months she'd gotten used to having him around. She'd begun to rely on him, begun to count on his phone calls, whether he was calling to find out the dates of her next shore leave or when he needed a satellite positioned in a certain direction. Like a punch to her gut it struck her that she missed him. And even more than that, she was now haunted by 'what could have been' had she been brave enough and honest enough to tell Steve her true feelings.

She set the picture on the bed and lay down, curling her knees to her chest. Tears began to spill down her cheeks. How could Steve be dead? This man she was certain now she'd grown to love? Wouldn't she know? Wouldn't she feel it somewhere deep inside if he was lost to her forever? It was such a romantic notion she couldn't believe she was even considering it, but she was desperate. Because she knew if she gave up hope, if she accepted what lurked in the back of her mind, that the odds of Steve surviving the explosion and submersion in the open ocean were slim to none, it would break her heart in a way that would never heal.

H5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5O

If there was one thing Danny hated more than being sick, it was being in the hospital, even one as nice as this one. He had no doubt that Governor Jameson had pulled some strings on his behalf, for after his CT scan he'd been moved to a private ICU room the size of a hotel suite. He could only guess it was usually used for the medical emergencies of VIP's and visiting dignitaries. On one side of his bed was a small room with a viewing window, a work station for his own private ICU nurse. Across the room on the other side of his bed were several overstuffed chairs and a couch that offered his family and friends more comfort than his own apartment. But despite the luxury, it was still a hospital room.

He'd hoped when they brought him back from his CT scan they would remove most of the monitoring equipment. They had removed the oxygen mask, only to replace it with a nasal cannula, and they'd added an automatic blood pressure cuff that tightened uncomfortably around his right upper arm every thirty minutes. The IV's pinched his hands. The sticky pads from the heart monitor leads caught at his chest hair, and the plastic clip on his finger was just plain annoying. At least the nurse who'd taken up residence in the viewing room was pretty, but it still made him feel like a lab rat. Worst of all, Danny realized, it led him to believe that getting out of the hospital wasn't going to be as fast or as easy a proposition as he'd hoped.

About the only thing keeping him from jumping out of his skin was the knowledge that Rachel had promised to bring Grace back to visit for a few hours. And after that Chin and Kono had promised to swing by and update him on the case and the search for Steve. He turned his head and glanced out the window. It was late afternoon, and they probably had only a few good hours of sunlight left. If they didn't find Steve soon, Danny knew it was unlikely he could survive another night in the ocean.

During his last vitals check, Leilani had told him that Dr. Beckham would be up shortly with the results from his CT scan, so he wasn't surprised when his door opened and the doctor strolled in. He wasn't alone though; a doctor Danny hadn't seen before followed Noah into the room. She was quite the contrast to the casually dressed Dr. Beckham; underneath her long white lab coat she wore an expensive designer suit.

"So," Danny drawled, "What's the verdict? Is my brain about to start leaking out of my ears?"

"Not quite," Kiki smiled, her chocolate brown eyes warm but serious.

"Then when can I get out of here?" Danny eyed the new doctor impatiently.

"Detective Williams, this is Dr. Imani. She's a neurologist." Noah explained. "She's been consulting on your head trauma since you were brought in. You've responded quite well to the treatment for the carbon monoxide poisoning, so from this point on, Dr. Imani will be taking over your primary care."

Danny grabbed denial by both hands and held on. He did not have time for this. And he did not want to think about what was in his test results that had upgraded a neurologist from consultant to primary physician.

"Okay, first, call me Danny, and second I feel fine. All this stuff is total overkill," he protested, waving his hand in frustration at the medical paraphernalia surrounding his bed. "I have a hard head. Ask anyone who knows me."

"You may have a hard head, Danny," Kiki explained, sitting down on the rolling stool next to her patient's bed, "but it took quite a hit yesterday. You were lucky that the skull didn't fracture, but you have two serious areas of contusions. When you were hit here," Kiki gently touched Danny's right temple, "the force knocked your brain against the back of your skull, here, and it caused the tissue to bruise. Your first CT scan was inconclusive, but your most recent scan shows definite signs of bruising, on both sides of your brain."

"Break it down for me Doc, what does that mean?" Danny sighed, rolling his head on the pillow to look at his doctor.

"Hematoma can present within hours or days of a closed head trauma. To put it simply, if you start bleeding in your brain and you don't get immediate medical treatment, you will die." Kiki said matter-of-factly, pulling a penlight out of her pocket. "Our standard course of treatment is to monitor the patient carefully for changes in his condition. That's what all of this _stuff_ is doing. Blood pressure, pupil responses, motor function, breathing rate and pattern, deep tendon reflexes, sensory function and level of consciousness: these are what tell us if you're getting better or getting worse."

"How long?" Danny asked.

"At least 48 hours, perhaps longer," Kiki clicked the penlight on. "Leilani tells me you're still showing sensitivity to light; are you continuing to suffer from dizziness as well?"

"Mmmhmm," Danny groaned as his doctor flashed the light in first one eye, then the other. She took her time and by the time she put the penlight away, sweat had broken out on his forehead and he was twisting the blanket in his fingers.

"Any nausea?" she asked, putting Danny through a number of motor response tests.

"Some," Danny admitted, "but it's not too bad."

"You'll let us know if that changes, yes?" Kiki pulled out her tablet, inputting notes of her observations. She set the tablet down and caught his eye. "It's extremely important you don't hide or mask any symptoms. Understand?"

When Danny finally acquiesced with a tight nod, she asked, "And how is your headache?"

"It hurts," he murmured, closing his eyes, "but it's nothing I can't handle."

"Danny," Kiki said softly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "I know your partner is missing and what I've had to say is the last thing you want to hear. I know how desperately you want to get out there and help find him. But the best thing you can do for him right now is to rest and heal." She stood up, slipping her tablet into her coat pocket. "I'll check on you later. Try and get some sleep okay? It's the best thing for you."

As the doctors left the room, Danny gazed out the window. He didn't want to be stuck in this bed, feeling like crap if he was perfectly honest. Scared too, a little. He didn't particularly relish the thought of anyone digging around in his brain. And more than he particularly cared to admit, he missed Steve, missed his steady presence and no nonsense thinking. "Let the docs do their thing, Danny. Stop being so difficult." Steve would say. Danny chuckled. Steve, the master of all things practicality.

There was a knock at the door and he smiled widely when Rachel and Grace stepped into the room. Grace skipped happily to his side, her hands full of drawings. Danny reached over and pulled his daughter to him, wrapping his arms tightly around her. Behind them, Rachel pulled up a chair and took a seat.

"Are you feeling better, Danno?" Grace asked as Danny released her from his hug. She stood next to his bed, her dark eyes full of worry.

"I am now, Monkey," Danny nodded. "What have you been up to today?"

"I made you some pictures," Grace handed over several sheets of paper.

"They're beautiful, Gracie," Danny said with admiration, flipping slowly through each of the drawings. He stopped at the last page and looked up at Grace in surprise. "What's this one?"

"Do you think Uncle Steve will like it?" Grace asked anxiously. "I drew it for him."

"I think he'll love it Monkey," Danny said softly, setting the drawings on the bed. "Come here." He pulled his daughter into another hug, trying to ignore the fear and grief welling up inside of him. "Danno needs lots of hugs today, I think," he whispered.

He stared at the drawing over Grace's shoulder. In it Steve was riding a whale. Dolphins, fish, starfish, and creatures he'd never seen before swam beside them. Birds flew in the air under a gigantic sun.

"It's going to be okay, Danno," Grace whispered back. "I have lots of hugs. Do you think Uncle Steve would like some hugs, too?"

"Would he like hugs?" Danny repeated softly, rubbing his daughter's back as he blinked back tears. "I happen to know for a fact he would love some hugs."

He let his forehead rest on the crook of Grace's shoulder. Then he felt Rachel's slender fingers gently massaging the back of his neck.

Grace pulled back and lightly kissed her father's check. "I love you Danno."

"I love you more, Monkey," Danny smiled, snagging one of her pigtails and giving it a light tug.

"You need to rest, Daniel," Rachel said softly, her hand lingering on the back of his neck.

"Can't," Danny shook his head slightly. "Chin and Kono said they'd come by and give me the latest." Mindful of his little girl's presence, he didn't mention the search for Steve or clarify that they would be discussing who might want them both dead.

Rachel's face blurred and Danny closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Fatigue washed over him and the pain in his head ratcheted up a notch or two.

"Not tonight," Rachel said firmly. "There's nothing they can tell you that can't wait until morning. You're exhausted Daniel. Stop fighting it."

"You're always so bossy," Danny opened his eyes to slits and stared up at her.

Rachel gazed down at him. He could plainly read in her dark troubled eyes the worry and fear for him that she wouldn't openly acknowledge in front of Grace. And he remembered it was she who discovered him unconscious and nearly dead on his kitchen floor, she who'd dragged him out of there and saved his life, she who had barely left his side even though she was no longer his wife.

"I'm sorry, Rach," he breathed. "I didn't mean to drag you into this. You should go home. I'm fine."

"We'll stay for a while," Rachel gently stroked his cheek with her thumb. She smiled down at him. "Are you done being stubborn for the day?"

Danny couldn't help but grin. "For the day," he conceded, beginning to fail the battle to keep his eyelids open. "But I make no promises about tomorrow," he murmured as his breathing evened out and he dropped off to sleep.

H5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5O

"I think we finally got something, Cous," Chin strode quickly into the conference room, slipping a microsd card into the center console.

"I have something too," Kono said excitedly, motioning with a hand towards a booking photo on one of the screens. "Erik Varnell. Six months ago, Steve and Danny were conducting an interview at Waiawa Correctional Center with this guy," Kono brought another booking photo up on the screen, "Matthew Tignor. He was an accountant with the firm Sato & Takahashi until he was caught embezzling the firm's funds." She reached down and picked up a case file. "From Danny's notes, Tignor claimed that Sato & Takahashi were laundering money for a local arms dealer, and he was ready to deal. Now Tignor was paranoid that someone was going to find out he was talking to 5-0, so he refused to meet through normal channels. Danny and Steve agreed to meet him in the prison library, but before they could talk to him…" Kono looked expectantly at Chin.

"Let me guess, Erik Varnell killed him?" Chin leaned against the console.

"Right in front of Danny and Steve," Kono finished, sliding another photo onto the screen, this one of Matthew Tignor's body in the prison library. "They were the only witnesses."

"How'd that happen?" Chin looked at Kono quizzically.

"Only the prison warden and the guard who walked Steve and Danny back there knew they were in the prison to meet Tignor," Kono explained.

"So Varnell thinks the library is empty, sees Tignor, and takes his shot." Chin mused.

"Exactly," Kono rubbed tiredly at her forehead. "Thing is, Varnell has no known associations with Tignor, Sato & Takahashi, or any arms dealers, at least none that we're aware of. Up until that day, Varnell had been a model prisoner. He had no reason to kill Tignor."

"There's always a reason," Chin glanced at his cousin. "We just haven't found it yet."

"Danny and Steve were supposed to testify against Varnell on Thursday," Kono tapped one finger thoughtfully against the side of the console. "Their witness statements are crucial; they're the State's entire case. Everything else is circumstantial. There were no prints on the knife. Varnell claims someone else killed Tignor, that he walked into the libaray after the stabbing and tried to help him – that's how he explained Tignor's blood on his clothes."

"So get rid of the witnesses and Varnell goes free..." Chin looked gravely at Kono.

"Exactly," Kono agreed. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept. From the time she heard about Danny, everything had been a blur.

"You need some sleep, cous. Go home. We'll come back at this tomorrow," Chin advised.

"We told Danny we'd stop by the hospital to fill him in," Kono protested.

"I called the hospital. Danny's sound asleep," Chin smiled.

"That's good," Kono nodded. She sighed. She couldn't deny how exhausted she was. Her cousin was right. She wouldn't be any use to anyone if she didn't get some rest. "Hey," she looked curiously at Chin, "Did you figure out what sunk the boat?"

Chin nodded. "C-4. It looks like the device had both a depth sensor and a delayed timer."

"They wanted to make sure he was far enough out that he wouldn't make it back," Kono finished, her heart sinking.

"It was quite a sophisticated device," Chin tapped several keys on the console, bringing up photos on the plasma of what remained of the evidence.

"Was Charlie able to trace the C-4?" Kono asked.

Chin nodded. "Yeah, I'll give you one guess: it matches the C-4 Steve and Danny found in that warehouse last Friday and the chemical composition matches a batch stolen from the Hawthorne Army Ammunition Depot in Nevada last year. Now we know, by this guy." He tapped the console to bring up another photo.

"Jimmy Teer." Kono clenched her hands into fists. "What connection does Teer have to Erik Varnell?"

"Don't know yet," Chin arranged the photos of the two men side by side. "But we're going to find out."

Kono nodded, holding back a yawn. Then she glanced over at her cousin. "Did you talk to Mary?"

"Yeah," Chin nodded, letting out a small sigh. It hadn't been an easy conversation.

"Is she coming out here?" Kono asked.

"No," Chin shook his head. "I talked her out of it. There's nothing she can do here, and Steve would want her to stay in LA, where she's safe." He tapped his cousin on the shoulder. "No more stalling, kiddo. Go home. I'll see you tomorrow."

Kono nodded, giving him a small wave as she went in to her office, grabbed her things, and left the building.

Chin left soon after his cousin, but he didn't go home. He'd gotten a text from Rachel that Danny was asleep, and she was taking Grace home. He knew if Steve had been able, he would have been at Danny's side, made sure their ohana wasn't alone. In Steve's absence, it was up to him.

He drove to the hospital and quietly slipped inside Danny's room, nodding at the night ICU nurse who was monitoring Danny's vitals. She smiled and gave him a thumbs up. He stood at the foot of Danny's bed. The blonde haole was sleeping peacefully. In one of his hands, he loosely gripped a child's drawing.

Grabbing an extra blanket from one of the chairs, Chin settled lengthwise on the couch. As he drifted to sleep, from outside came the gentle patter of rain.

H5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5O

_Steve's legs dangled on the bench seat. He enviously watched his father expertly handle the fishing pole. Several fish already lay on ice in the cooler at his father's feet. His mouth watered. His dad's fish on the grill was his favorite food. He'd been begging to go out fishing with him for months. Finally his father had said yes, and now they were anchored in a small cove several miles from shore. The boat rocked gently in the water. Steve shifted, tugging at the straps to his life preserver as the jacket dug uncomfortably at his side._

"_Never go on a boat without wearing your life preserver," John McGarrett glanced sidelong at his eight year old son. "Going out on the water is not a game, Son. Preparedness is your single most important weapon in your arsenal for survival if something catastrophic happens to your boat."_

_Steve nodded, his fingers itching to give his dad's fishing pole a try. _

"_What's the single most important resource you'll need if you're stranded in the middle of the ocean?" John glanced down at his son expectantly._

"_Water," Steve replied._

"_Any kind of water?" John prompted. "What about sea water?"_

_Steve shook his head vigorously. "Never drink sea water, no matter what, no matter how thirsty you are."_

"_What are the ways you can get drinkable water?" John continued to quiz the boy._

"_You can drink rain water," Steve answered. _

"_And if it's not raining what do you do then?" John raised an eyebrow._

"_You can suck out the eyes and bones of fish. Gross!" Steve chortled with delight._

"_And what about the fish, should you eat them too?" John felt a pull on his pole and carefully began to reel in another catch._

"_Sure," Steve shrugged, grinning. "But you have to eat them raw!"_

"_Wrong," John shook his head sternly as he gently untangled the hook from the fish's mouth. "You can survive only three days without water, but you can survive three weeks without food. Tell me why you shouldn't eat if you don't have much or any drinking water." _

_Steve scrunched his face in thought. His father patiently waited him out. Suddenly, he looked up triumphantly at his dad. "Eating makes your body use more water."_

"_Very good, Son," John smiled in approval. "The act of digestion requires water, and if you eat without drinking, you can become dehydrated more quickly."_

"_Can I try now, Dad?" Steve asked eagerly, touching the fishing pole with his fingers._

"_Sure, Son. Come here," John laughed, handing the pole over to the eight year old. "Hold it like this…"_

Steve groaned; the image of that perfect sunlit day with his father faded away. Something wet and cold splattered against his face, and reluctantly he opened his eyes. He licked his cracked lips and stuck his tongue out, catching the small drops of rain water with it and eagerly swallowing.

It wasn't raining hard, just misting really, but he was so thirsty he didn't think he would have minded a monsoon at this point. Of course, he was already chilled to the bone and his rowboat wouldn't last long before filling to the brim with rainwater, but at least he would have been able to quench his thirst before drowning.

He leaned against the corner of the rowboat, turned his face up to the night darkened sky, and opened up his mouth, catching as many of the rain drops as he could. He was tired. His entire body ached. His mind began to wander, and he wondered what Danny was doing or if his team knew what had happened to him. Steve wondered if anyone was looking for him and he could hear Danny's rant already.

_There is a reason you do not go alone eighty miles from shore in a rickety old boat! Do you know why, Steven? Because they _sink! _What is wrong with dry land? It's safe, and might I point out, _dry! _You know what else you have on dry land? Food. Water you can actually drink, not just look at._ _Did you learn nothing from Titanic? Or the Poseidon Adventure? Boats kill, Steven._

Steve chuckled. He missed his partner, his quick and razor sharp wit. Danny would have plenty to say about Steve the Super Seal dying in the middle of the Pacific, and he would have loved to have heard every word of it, seen every expansive hand gesture, watched as Danny's face turned a brilliant shade of red. But he was tired and cold and despite the assist from Flipper and Willy the dolphins, he knew he couldn't hold on much longer. His body was giving out, and all he wanted was to go back to sleep, to go back to dreaming about happier times when his parents were alive and Steve thought the world held infinite possibility.

But something nagged at him, something he was forgetting, something important. Slowly he opened his eyes and remembered. He hadn't ended up here by accident. His boat hadn't just sunk. There'd been an explosion. Someone had tried to kill him. His stomach clenched. Had his entire team been a target? Or just him? He groaned and forced himself to sit up. He wasn't ready to die, not when his friends, his family, were in danger. Panting with exertion, he held on to the sides of the boat and scanned the horizon. The misting rain had stopped as quickly as it had begun. The clouds began to scatter, letting slants of moonlight through. He scanned the horizon, but saw nothing that might signal rescue. No boats, no ships, no planes. His rowboat had no oars, no way to steer. And he still had virtually no water. He slammed his fist into the side of the boat.

"You're making it real hard to hang on to hope down here," he hoarsely shouted up at the sky. "Help a guy out, would you?"

Winded, he sank back against the side of the boat. "Shit, I'm losing it," he muttered to himself, rubbing at his forehead with his fingers. He didn't even know who he was yelling at. The universe? God? The patron saint of sailboats?

"_The final stages of dehydration are delirium and blurred vision_," Steve could hear his father say. "_If water is not found soon, these symptoms are quickly followed by death_."

"I'm sorry, Danny," Steve shivered. He didn't know how he could possibly feel both hot and cold at the same time, but somehow his poor abused body was doing it. "I don't want to give up. I'm not giving up. But sometimes, you just don't have a choice."

"_A choice? You don't have a choice?" _Danny's voice echoed in Steve's mind. _"The going gets tough and you throw up your hands in defeat and then say you don't have a choice? I never thought I'd call you a quitter McGarrett. Energizer bunny of Navy Seals? Sure. Jack Bauer and Rambo and Robocop all rolled into one insane package? Absolutely. As mushy as the Pillsbury Dough Boy in all children related cases? Oh hell yeah. But a quitter? Not the McGarrett I know."_

"What do you want me to do Danny?" Steve snapped, glowering, "Contrary to your opinion, I _am_ human. I'm not some military experiment that can defy the laws of nature…"

A loud slap on the bottom of the boat stopped Steve mid rant. That slap was followed by another and then another. Fish were being tossed into the rowboat. He glanced out over the water and saw Flipper and Willy diving into the ocean only to emerge moments later with a fish in their jaws, which they then proceeded to throw into the boat.

With shaking hands, Steve began grabbing the fish one by one. He greedily sucked the eyes dry and then dug his thumbs into the flesh, opening the fish up to expose the vertebra. After sucking each bone dry, he tossed the body of the fish back into the ocean and grabbed the next one.

When he'd gone through the entire catch of fish Flipper and Willy had provided, he sank back against the edge of the boat and closed his eyes. He wasn't feeling a whole lot better, but he knew the fish had bought him a little more time.

"Thanks Flipper. Thanks Willy," Steve called out, weakly waving his hand at the two dolphins. His eyes began to droop. "Thanks for keeping Danno off my back for a while."

Steve's head lolled back against the side of the boat and he drifted into sleep. He didn't notice that every once in a while the dolphins would give the rowboat a nudge. He didn't feel the rowboat beginning to drift with speed and purpose, caught in the swells and eddies of the ocean currents. He didn't hear the exuberant clicks and whistles of the dolphins as the first rays of sunlight began to rise in the east.

And he didn't see the bow of the small pleasure cruiser as it began to take shape on the distant horizon.

Through it all, the rowboat's solitary passenger slept the sleep of the dead.

tbc…


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you so much to everyone who's written a review. I truly appreciate you taking the time to share your thoughts about the story.

JoaniexJony, my amazing beta, as always, mahalo my friend.

I hope you enjoy the chapter and do let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!

Chapter Five

Chin carefully swung his legs over the side of the couch as quietly as possible. He glanced out the window. The rain had stopped and the sky was clear, but from the forecast yesterday he knew more rain was anticipated by midday.

"Hey Chin," Danny's voice called to him softly.

"Sorry brah," Chin walked over to Danny's bed. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't," Danny waved off the apology. He raised the head of the bed and pulled the nasal cannula from his face. "Did it rain again last night?"

"Yeah," Chin grabbed a nearby rolling stool and sat down. "You look better this morning."

"I feel better," Danny nodded. "My head doesn't feel like a chainsaw is ripping through it anymore. I'm hungry though. You don't happen to have any of those malasadas lying around do you?"

"Unfortunately, no," Chin laughed. "I could use some coffee myself."

"I don't suppose we could ask Kono to do a food run, could we?" Danny raised his eyebrows hopefully.

"You feeling like an up close and personal view of her roundhouse?" Chin chuckled.

"Not particularly," Danny frowned, pushing himself up further into a sitting position. "What's the latest from the Coast Guard on the search for Steve? And where are we with the investigation?"

"What do you know about Erik Varnell?" Chin asked, opting for the second question.

"Varnell," Danny narrowed his eyes. "That was a weird one. He got popped for stealing a car. It was a first offense so he was given six months in lockup where he was a model prisoner until the day he stabbed Matthew Tignor to death. This guy had absolutely no priors. No history of violence. No evidence of a beef with Tignor or any ties to the arms dealers who wanted Tignor dead. Literally, he made no sense as a perp. In fact if I hadn't seen him do it with my own eyes, I'm not sure I'd believe he did it either. Steve and I are supposed to testify at his trial on Thursday. You think he has something to do with this?"

"I don't know," Chin said thoughtfully. "But you have to admit, the timing is suspicious. And then there's the C4 that blew up Steve's boat. We traced it back to Teer."

"Well, we did manage to piss off Jimmy Teer rather spectacularly," Danny sighed. "Now there's a motive that does make sense."

"It was an anonymous tip that led you and Steve to that warehouse," Chin mused. "We had nothing on Teer before that."

"The timing, once again, is rather convenient," Danny began to nod then winced. "All right, we need to start pulling at every one of these coincidences and see what falls out."

"Kono and I are talking to Varnell today," Chin said.

Danny pushed the covers back and began to swing his legs over the side of the bed. "I'm going with you."

"You absolutely are not," Leilani stood in the doorway to the nurse's station, her hands on her hips.

"You know, you shouldn't eavesdrop on official police business," Danny glared belligerently at Leilani even as he began working at the tape holding one of his IV's in place.

"You touch that IV and I'll take your temperature rectally from now on," Leilani threatened, her eyes narrowing dangerously. She stalked towards Danny's bed.

"You wouldn't," Danny gasped, but he promptly yanked his hand away from the IV.

"I think I might lead a seminar on the correct way to take rectal temperatures in this very room," Leilani smiled sweetly at her patient. "I'm sure we'd have a sizeable audience," she glanced down towards his midsection. "You have quite the tushie." She glanced over at Chin as her patient flushed bright red and jerked her thumb towards the door. "Sorry, detective but visiting hours are over. I need to take his vitals."

"Yes, Ma'am," Chin immediately stood up, doing his best to keep from laughing.

"No, wait," Danny glanced cautiously at his nurse before turning back to Chin. "What about Steve?"

The grin fell from Chin's face. "The Coast Guard is trawling the area one more time. But if the weather gets bad…" Chin stopped, glancing towards the window. "The storm that's due in later today…it's expected to stick around through tomorrow."

"And that means what for Steve?" Danny leaned forward, his blue eyes burning with intensity.

Chin pursed his lips and sighed, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. His stomach clenched.

"Chin?" Danny balled his hands into fists. "That means what for Steve?"

"They're calling off the search," Chin admitted reluctantly.

"They're what?" Danny's voice rose with anger. "Not if I have anything to do with it," he shook his head and shoved his feet to the floor. He pushed off from the bed, ignoring the wave of dizziness that immediately assaulted him. He put one hand on the mattress to steady himself and stabbed at the air with the other. "They're not calling off that search. I need to talk to the governor and then I'm going out there myself."

"No, you're not Danny," Chin said quietly, gripping his friend by the shoulders. He shook his head at Leilani as she began to move towards them. Gently he pressed his weight into Danny until the unsteady man sank back onto the bed.

"They can't leave him out there Chin," Danny whispered, his forehead dropping against Chin's shoulder. His eyes were wet with tears. "They're signing his death warrant."

"It's not over yet, Danny," Chin helped the younger man climb back under the covers. "They're looking for him right now. You hear me? Steve's strong. If anyone can survive it's him. You have to hang on to that."

Chin glanced worriedly at Leilani. He didn't want to leave Danny alone like this. He knew Rachel and Grace weren't due to visit until after Grace got out of school.

"Go, Chin. I'll be fine." Danny said dully, scrubbing the tears from his eyes. "Just get the bastard who did this."

Chin sighed, nodding reluctantly. "Kono and I will swing by later. We'll let you know how it goes with Varnell."

Danny turned his head and gazed out the window. The shaft of light streaming into the room weakened as clouds drifted over the sun. He buried his face into his pillow and felt the last vestiges of hope begin to slip away.

H5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5O

Joanie Kildare lazily stretched, rolling over and groaning slightly. She slowly opened her green eyes and sat up, her red hair spilling over her shoulders in waves. The pleasure cruiser rocked gently in the swells. She and her friends had booked this trip nearly a year ago, their reward for completing a deep sea scuba diving course. Over the past week they'd leisurely traveled from one dive spot to the next until they'd finally made their way to the last destination on their itinerary, a shipwreck located some two hundred miles off the Big Island. They were heading back to Oahu in the next couple of hours, and Joanie planned to spend her last morning out on the cruiser watching the sun rise while enjoying her first cup of coffee of the day.

Her friends were still sleeping but Joanie didn't mind, enjoying the peace and quiet of a solitary morning. As the coffee maker gurgled, she grabbed a Danish, greedily popping half of it into her mouth. Quickly finishing it off, she licked her fingers in satisfaction and poured the coffee into a mug.

She climbed the stairs to the upper deck and leaned over the rail. The dolphins popped out of the water so unexpectedly, she nearly dropped her mug into the ocean. Joanie smiled in delight as they clicked and whistled, playfully jumping and diving in the water. She'd always loved dolphins and settled back over the rail, enthralled by the dolphins' antics.

The small rowboat drifted slowly into her line of sight and it took her a moment to realize it was occupied by a man. He looked in a bad way, slumped back, unconscious, against the side. The coffee mug slipped from her fingers, falling with a splash into the water.

Joanie turned around and screamed for help. Then she climbed over the rail and dove into the sea.

Her arms sluiced through the water in strong strokes. She couldn't tell if the man in the rowboat was alive or dead, so when she reached the boat, she nervously shook his arm.

"Hey…Hey Mister!" She called.

The man gave a slight moan, but didn't rouse. She touched his forehead. He was freezing cold. His lips were cracked, and his skin seemed to stretch unnaturally tightly around his bones. She wasn't an expert, but even she could tell the man was hypothermic and dehydrated, and in urgent need of help.

She whipped her head around, and holding tightly to the sides of the boat she screamed, "Captain Ty! There's a man in the water! I need your help!"

She attempted to kick backwards and drag the boat closer to the cruiser, but it was heavy and she made little progress. Finally she heard several more splashes in the water and she saw her friend Katie and Captain Ty swimming towards her. Between the three of them, they were able to carefully maneuver the small rowboat next to the cruiser.

"Be careful, girls," Ty warned. "He's hypothermic. Even the slightest jostle right now could kill him. Wait here. I'm going to get the winch and we'll hoist the rowboat up to the deck."

Lithely Ty scrambled up the side of the cruiser, disappearing over the side.

"Do you think he's going to be okay?" Katie asked in a hushed voice. She was braced between the rowboat and cruiser, clinging with one hand to the little boat and with the other to the metal rungs of a ladder built into the pleasure cruiser's side.

"I don't know. I hope so," Joanie said tentatively.

Gently she reached up and placed her hand on the man's forehead. She startled when his eyes suddenly flew open, a deep shade of blue that locked on hers. For a second Joanie thought she'd forgotten how to breathe, so intense was the man's gaze.

"It's okay," she stammered. "You're going to be okay."

Just as quickly his eyes closed again. With a small sigh, his head lolled to the side.

"Get ready," Ty called from the deck's railing. "I'm going to drop the rope. You're going to have to run it under the bottom."

"Got it," Joanie shouted up at him.

She spent the next several minutes running several ropes under and around the sides of the boat until they were finally ready to pull it up from the water. As Ty began to hoist it up the side, she saw her two other friends take position next to Ty at the rail. When the boat reached the rail, three pairs of hands smoothly swung it over and lowered it gently to the deck.

Joanie and Katie scrambled up the ladder, reaching the top just as Ty was carefully lifting the stranger from the rowboat, holding him close to his chest as one would a child.

"Is it safe to do that?" Joanie asked breathlessly. "You said he had to remain still."

"Boat's got water in the bottom," Ty responded tersely. "Have to get him warm and dry. Joanie, go get me some towels and blankets. As many as you can find. Cora, I need you to get on that radio and call the Coast Guard. We need a medivac out here ASAP. Katie, go down to the galley and get a pitcher of water and a glass."

All three girls took off in different directions as Ty carefully carried their unexpected guest down to his quarters.

By the time Joanie got to Ty's room, her arms overflowing with towels and blankets, the cruiser's captain had stripped the injured man of his clothes. They lay in a wet heap on the floor.

"Gimme those towels, Joanie," Ty ordered.

Green eyes wide, Joanie moved closer to the bed and handed Ty the towels. She felt a slow flush rise in her cheeks when she saw the captain had removed _all_ of the man's clothing.

"Stop gaping girl," Ty snapped impatiently as he finished drying the man off. "Hand me the blankets."

"Is he going to be okay?" Joanie breathed as Ty swaddled the man in blankets from head to toe. Within moments only his face remained uncovered.

Katie skittered into the room, followed closely by Cora.

"Here's the water," Katie announced, setting the pitcher and glass on the bedside table.

"Joanie," Ty waved her over. "I need you to position yourself under him. We need to get him up, get some water into him." He glanced over at Cora as he filled the glass. "What's the ETA on the Coast Guard?"

"Thirty minutes," she replied.

Gingerly, Joanie placed her hands under the man's back, lifting him up so she could slide behind him. His head fell against her shoulder. Ty wet the end of a towel in the glass and ran the damp cloth over the man's lips. He pinched open the man's jaws and squeezed several drops onto his tongue.

"Come on, you need to drink a little, Son," Ty continued to wet the towel and squeeze water into the man's mouth. He stroked the man's neck, engaging the reflex to swallow. He looked up from his work. "Cora, go wait up top for the Coast Guard."

Cora ran from the room and Ty grabbed the glass of water, holding it to the man's lips. He tipped in a small amount, but this time he didn't have to force the man to swallow it; he swallowed on his own.

"Son? Can you hear me?" Ty set the glass down and gently tapped the man's cheek with one finger. "Come on, time to wake up now."

"Wha?" Blue eyes blinked up at Ty in confusion. "Thirsty."

"I'd imagine you are," Ty smiled kindly. "But we have to take it slow. Coast Guard's on the way. They'll get you fixed up. What's your name?"

"McGarrett. Steve McGarrett," he said thickly, painfully licking his lips. "More…water. Please."

"We'll try another sip," Ty agreed, tipping the glass to Steve's mouth. He let Steve take a small drink and then pulled the glass away. "That's enough for now or we're going to send your kidneys into a tailspin. I'm Ty, captain of this vessel. Do you remember what happened?"

"Kaboom. Boat sank," Steve slurred. He stared sleepily at Ty. His eyelids began to droop.

"Uh uh," Ty patted Steve's cheek again. "Stay awake. Help's on the way. You can sleep when they get you stabilized. You're the one they've been looking for. It's all over the news. You're pretty far from where they thought you'd be."

"Guess Flipper and Willy should've asked for directions," Steve mumbled, struggling to keep his eyes open.

Ty and Joanie shared a confused look. Before they could ask any further questions, they heard the distinct sound of a helicopter hovering directly overhead. Minutes later two EMT's wearing Coast Guard uniforms followed Cora into the bedroom. Joanie watched as they set their rescue basket loaded with equipment on the floor.

One of them set a backboard and C-collar on the bed and smiled at Joanie and Steve. "Hi, I'm Kai. Can you tell me your name, Sir?"

"Steve McGarrett," Steve rolled his head to look at the EMT.

"Holy shit, it's good to see you, Commander McGarrett," Kai smiled broadly. "You are going to make a lot of people very happy." He pulled a penlight out of a pocket and flashed it in Steve's eyes. "Did you get thrown when your boat exploded?"

"Yeah," Steve winced. "Hit the water pretty hard."

"Okay then, to be on the safe side, we're going to secure your neck and spine. I'm going to put the C-collar on and then we're going to get you on the board. Miss," he glanced over at Joanie. "If you can slide out of the way and let my partner in."

Joanie nodded, sliding off the bed as the other EMT moved behind Steve and stabilized his head and neck with his hands. Kai secured the brace around Steve's neck and then the two EMT's gently lowered Steve to a supine position and slid the board under him, securing him to it with several black straps. Leaving the majority of the blankets in place, they took Steve's vitals, inserted an IV into his arm and placed an oxygen mask over his face. Then they lifted the backboard into the rescue basket and carefully carried their patient out onto the deck.

Joanie ran after them and watched as they hoisted the rescue basket into the helicopter. The two EMT's quickly followed.

Joanie shielded her eyes with her hands as the helicopter banked left, creating a small windstorm that caused her hair to fly wildly in her face. She watched until the helicopter finally disappeared and she leaned over the rail, smiling when she saw the dolphins break the surface of the water, traveling rapidly into the west. It was a beautiful sight, and so despite the slow drizzle that had just begun, Joanie continued to watch until the dolphins, too, disappeared into the distance.

H5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5O

Danny gazed out the rain streaked window panes. It was early afternoon but it could have passed for early evening. He was strangely numb. He assumed the search had been called off by now. Steve's body would most likely never be found. They'd bury an empty casket next to the graves of his mother and father. Murdered, all three. Only Mary would be left. He wondered if she'd come for Steve's funeral.

He felt the blood pressure cuff around his arm inflate. When it deflated he heard the nurse talking to someone on the phone. There'd been a shift change several hours ago and Leilani had gone home, replaced by her too perky blonde counterpart, Rayna.

"Your blood pressure's a little low, Detective," Rayna clucked with concern as she walked over to his bed. "Dr. Imani wants a full vitals check and she's on her way up."

Danny closed his eyes in disinterest as Rayna fit the tip of a thermometer in his ear. He was surprised by how little he cared what the nurse was doing. All he could think about was Steve out there in the vast ocean. All alone. Had he been scared? Was Steve even capable of fear? Or maybe he hadn't felt anything at all. Maybe he'd been killed in the explosion. He wondered if one day Steve's body would wash up on a beach somewhere.

Danny's chest tightened and lightheadedness swept over him. Steve couldn't be dead. It wasn't possible. Steve was larger than life, a fucking Navy Seal. If anyone could survive being stranded out in the ocean, it would be Steve McGarrett. God, how he missed him. Missed arguing with him. Missed hanging out and having a beer with him. Now he would never see his best friend again.

His heart thudded painfully in his chest. When had Steve become his best friend? It had happened without him even knowing it. There were times he wanted nothing more than to throttle him, but underneath it all, Five-0 were family. Steve was family.

"Detective Williams?"

Rayna's worried voice sounded tinny in his ears. She shook his arm and he slowly opened his eyes, turning his head to face her. It felt like he was moving through sludge. She placed a mask over his nose and mouth and then reached over his head and turned a knob on the wall. Oxygen flowed behind the mask.

"Detective Williams," she said firmly, "your heart is beating too fast. I need you to take slow deep breaths for me." She grabbed the phone, ordered someone to page Dr. Imani, 911, to his room.

Danny closed his eyes again, barely noticing as she twisted a piece of tubing around his arm and slid a needle into a vein. Dimly he heard Dr. Imani charge into the room, demanding to know what was going on. He felt his eyelids being forced open. A bright light nearly blinded him, but he had no energy to resist.

Danny heard the doctor mutter a curse and then the light went away and his eyelids slid closed. He thought she slapped his cheek, but the pain hung distantly at the very edge of his senses and he was too tired to open his eyes. He felt like he was alone in a dark tunnel, his doctor and nurse way down at the other end, too far away to hear clearly. Then suddenly the bed was moving, hurtling down the hall and into an elevator. He caught snatches of conversation happening above him. Shock. Brain bleed. CT scan. And then he was being lifted onto a narrow table and slid inside a large machine. He thought someone was talking to him, but he couldn't make out the words.

The next thing he knew, he was being lifted again. He blinked slowly, finally managing to force his eyes open. Someone positioned his arms out to the sides. They put a mask over his face. It smelled funny and his vision started to blur. Then someone bent over him. He recognized her beautiful ebony eyes even though her face was hidden by a mask.

"We're going to get you through this Detective Williams," Dr. Imani said, her voice like silk. "Don't you give up."

His eyes slid closed as they turned his head to the side. Something hot crawled up his hand, spread through his entire body and before he could ask what he needed to get through, he fell into the abyss and drifted away.

H5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5O

It was drizzling by the time Chin picked up Kono at the 5-0 offices and pouring by the time they reached Waiawa Correctional Facility. Both he and Kono were quiet as they went through prison security, neither one of them ready to verbalize what the storm outside meant, for Steve, for their team, for their family.

As Chin and Kono entered the interview room, Erik Varnell looked up. Kono pulled out one of the chairs and sat down, but Chin stepped back and leaned against the wall. Silently he stared at the man who was somehow tied to the attacks on Danny and Steve two days ago. Varnell was nervous, though he was trying not to be. The defiance in his eyes and the confidence in his stature a bluff, simply a cover for an underlying fear that radiated from him in waves. He was a man stretched to the breaking point. All Chin had to do was reach out and tip him over.

"Where's your lawyer?" Chin asked conversationally, his arms crossed casually over his chest.

"Don't know why I'd need him to tell you I don't know anything," Varnell leaned back, one hand pressed firmly down on his leg.

"About what?" Chin smiled in a display of friendliness.

"Whatever you were gonna ask me," Varnell shrugged in annoyance, his leg beginning to jump under his hand.

"How do you know what I'm going to ask? Are you psychic now?" Chin arched an eyebrow at the prisoner.

"Uh….what? No," Varnell squirmed in confusion.

"Wasn't your trial supposed to start this week?" Chin asked, keeping his voice light.

"Uh…yeah," Varnell's leg began to jump in earnest.

"So…why didn't it?" Chin cocked his head at Varnell.

Varnell shrugged, "My lawyer says the state doesn't have a case—they're begging for more time."

"Have you always been this ignorant or did this condition start recently?" Chin asked curiously; he pushed off the wall and moved towards the table.

"Wha?" Varnell squinted up at Chin, as if unsure whether he'd just been insulted or not.

"Stupid, you lolo," Kono interjected in disgust. "My partner just called you stupid."

Varnell clenched his hands into fists and glared up at Chin. Chin moved forward, banging his hands down on the table.

"I find it real hard to believe you don't know your trial was postponed because Jimmy Teer murdered one of the cops testifying against you and put the other one in the hospital." Chin's eyes lasered into Varnell. "So I ask you again, were you born stupid? 'Cause we're not talking anymore about how many _years_ you're gonna get for killing a scumbag no one cared about. It's the death penalty for killing a cop!"

"I didn't kill no cop!" Varnell howled, yanking his hands against the chains tying him to the interview table.

"No, you just ordered Teer to do it for you!" Kono glared at Varnell in fury.

"Nobody orders Jimmy Teer to do nothin'!" Varnell cried out fearfully.

"Then why would he kill Steve McGarrett for you?" Chin asked in disbelief.

"I'm telling you, I don't know!" Varnell pleaded, his leg again jerking spastically.

"It wasn't part of your deal?" Chin asked suspiciously.

"No!" Varnell shook his head vigorously.

"I'm really supposed to believe you agreed to kill Matthew Tignor and you didn't make sure you had a way out?" Chin stared at the prisoner skeptically.

"Dude, you don't get it," Varnell blurted. "I wasn't supposed to get caught!" Then his eyes went wide in shock and he clamped his mouth shut.

Silence descended on the room.

Chin leaned over the table, moving well into Varnell's personal space. "So explain to me why a seemingly law abiding citizen without so much as a parking ticket would suddenly engage in a murder for hire."

Chin paused expectantly. Varnell stubbornly shook his head and stared down at the floor.

"Kono, can you guess why?" Chin turned to his partner.

"Teer has something on him," Kono narrowed her eyes at Varnell, and she saw him almost imperceptibly stiffen.

"I'm sure there were far easier ways Teer could have chosen to have Tignor killed," Chin studied Varnell carefully.

"But none that did such a good job of hiding Teer's connection to it," Kono continued. She smiled in satisfaction as Varnell paled.

"You know, it takes a lot of stones to stab someone to death," Chin's voice was hard. "It's up close, it's personal, it's bloody."

"Shut up," Varnell whispered. "I want to go back to my cell." He lifted his head and screamed towards the door. "Guard! Get me out of here!"

"I don't think you did it for money," Chin mused, ignoring Varnell's outburst. "I think the stakes were a lot higher than that."

"You think Teer was threatening somebody? Someone Varnell cares about?" Kono guessed.

"I do," Chin nodded.

"Guard!" Varnell yelled again. "Lemme out!" He stood, but was drawn up short by the handcuffs. He yanked desperately on them. "Guard!"

"I have a question," Kono raised her hand. "Why would Teer reveal himself now? I mean he went to a lot of trouble to keep his connection to Erik here a secret. And then he blows up a boat with C-4 easily traced right back to him."

"Guard!" Varnell yelled again, practically sobbing in desperation.

"I don't know, Kono," Chin said thoughtfully, "but I can't believe it bodes well for our friend here."

Finally responding to the prisoner's cries, the guard opened the door, entering the interview room.

As the guard unlocked the cuffs from the table and began to escort the prisoner out, Chin said, "We can protect you, Varnell. We can protect the person you're trying to protect. But you have to come clean."

"I can't…I have to…" Varnell bit his lip, shaking his head. "I have to think."

"I wouldn't think too long, brah," Chin warned. "Or you're going to end up like Matthew Tignor."

As Varnell was ushered back to his cell, Chin and Kono quickly grabbed their things from security and dashed through the rain back to their car.

"Erik Varnell can give us Jimmy Teer on a platter, cous," Kono said urgently. "We have to find out who he's protecting."

"I want you to tear through every inch of Erik Varnell's life," Chin ordered his cousin. "We missed something."

Chin set the wiper blades on high, turned on the blue flashing police lights, and sped back towards Honolulu. He could feel it in his gut. They had the thread. And with it, they could break this case apart. They would get justice for Steve.

His phone rang and he flipped on the hands free speaker system. "Yeah," he said.

"_Investigator Chin, this is Lt. Dickerson with the Coast Guard. We've got your man. He's alive and currently being treated on the USS Enterprise."_

"Say again?" Chin responded, glancing at Kono as if unable to believe his own ears. "You found Steve McGarrett? Alive?"

"_Yes, Sir, that's what I said."_ They could hear the grin in Dickerson's voice.

"And he's okay?" Kono asked, tears springing to her eyes.

"_I'll be honest, he's a little worse for wear but they're working to stabilize him now. The Enterprise had the closest med facility. If you reach out to them, I'm sure they can tell you more."_

"Thanks for the phone call!" Chin grinned.

He and Kono stared at each other for a moment and then they both whooped for joy.

"Yes!" Kono yelled, punching her fist at the roof of the car.

Chin nodded. "Steve will be okay. I know it. He won't give up now, not when he's come this far."

"We have to tell Danny," Kono grinned. "He'll flip out."

"We're going to have sit on him to keep him from going out to the Enterprise," Chin chuckled.

"Should we call him or wait until we get there?" Kono asked.

"Call him," Chin replied immediately.

Kono made the call to Danny's room at Hawaii Medical Center, but it wasn't Danny who answered the phone.

"We're trying to reach Detective Danny Williams, can you help us with that?" Kono asked.

"Um," the voice responded hesitantly.

"You have Officer Kalakaua and Investigator Chin Ho Kelly on the line," Kono said firmly. "You need to tell us what's going on with Detective Williams right now."

"I'm sorry to inform you that Detective Williams was rushed into surgery. They don't know if he's going to make it. That's all I can tell you," the voice said softly.

"Thank you," Kono clicked off the phone.

Kono and Chin sat in stunned silence. They'd just gotten Steve back, and now they might lose Danny. It was a sucker punch neither one of them had been ready for.

tbc…


	6. Chapter 6

Again, my heartfelt thanks to everyone who has left a review. I don't always get a chance to reply to them, but I appreciate every single one. They really do brighten my day. And sometimes they get me excited to update a little sooner. Just sayin'. ;) Mostly, I'm just glad to know that someone out there is enjoying my work.

As always, hugs and chocolate to my fabulous beta JoaniexJony. Thank you!

This chapter is a little shorter than the others, so I thought I'd throw it out there as a bonus H50 Monday update. I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think!

Chapter Six

It had been one hell of a day, Catherine thought. She leaned back in her chair and rested her head against her hands. When she'd heard the news the Coast Guard was going to call off the search for Steve, she'd thrown herself into her work. The last thing she'd wanted was to be alone with her thoughts, alone with her grief. Staying busy was the best distraction, so she'd been at her post when the Coast Guard radioed in that they had Steve, but he wasn't stable enough to make the trip to Oahu. Her heart racing, she alerted the medical bay and then eavesdropped as Captain Lichten went back and forth with the Coast Guard medics about low blood pressure, hypothermia and dehydration.

When the Coast Guard chopper landed, Catherine was practically bursting at the seams from nerves. Her XO had taken one look at her and relieved her from duty. Catherine made a beeline for the infirmary and arrived just as they were rushing Steve into a treatment room. In the flurry of activity, they didn't notice when she leaned against the wall and watched, barely able to breathe, while the medical team worked to save Steve's life.

She knew how bad things were, how close she'd really come to losing Steve, when she'd heard them say his body temp was ninety degrees. He was severely hypothermic, and though he'd been conscious when the Coast Guard medics got to him, he'd passed out on the flight to the Enterprise. Dr. Lichten called in a consult from Hawaii Medical Center. The two doctors discussed Steve's care by video phone, and she'd gone weak in the knees when they began to talk about the benefits of performing a heart bypass. Ultimately they decided to give non-invasive measures a chance to work first.

By the time they were done, Steve had nearly disappeared under a mound of warm blankets. Heat packs had been placed at his neck, armpits and groin. Both arms sported IV's, the saline solution heated in the microwave. He wore an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth that delivered warmed air. The leads to a heart monitor snaked out from under the blankets. An automatic blood pressure cuff, wrapped around his left bicep, inflated and deflated regularly every fifteen minutes. A plastic receptacle hung off the side of the gurney, a sign of the catheter they'd placed in order to monitor his kidney function.

Catherine glanced at her watch. She'd been sitting at Steve's side for most of the day. Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. But she couldn't bring herself to leave. She leaned over and brushed the hair from his forehead.

"Come on sleepyhead," she murmured. "Time to rise and shine."

She looked up as Lt. Susy Anderson entered the cubicle, a bag of warmed saline solution in one hand and an MRE in another. Susy handed the MRE to Catherine and said with a friendly smile, "Eat, before you pass out from hunger and I have two patients on my hands."

Catherine smiled sheepishly, moving out of the nurse's way. "Thanks for the food, Susy. I'm not sure I can eat, though, until I know Steve's okay."

"You've got to keep your strength up, Cat," Susy smiled at her as she efficiently swapped out an empty IV bag for the fresh one. "If that's too much, I can get you something a little lighter to snack on."

"Maybe that would be better," Catherine agreed, smiling appreciatively. She moved back to Steve's gurney and rested her forearms on the rails. "He hasn't woken up yet," Catherine gave her friend a worried glance.

"His vitals are definitely stronger," Susy said, studying the monitors. "Let's see where his temp's at." Carefully she placed the thermometer in Steve's ear. When it beeped, she glanced at the digital reading and smiled. "He's up to ninety four. I think he's almost out of the woods."

"When do you think he'll be ready to transport to Hawaii Medical Center?" Catherine asked.

"I'd say within the next hour," Susy bent down, scribbling notes in Steve's chart as she studied the bag that hung from the foot of the gurney. "Kidney function is looking good too." She reached over and squeezed the young lieutenant's shoulder. "I think he's going to be fine. Some people take a little longer to come out of it than others."

"Any chance you can remove the catheter before he wakes up?" Catherine chuckled, feeling as if a huge weight had just been lifted from her shoulders. "Something tells me he's going to be less than thrilled to discover a tube down there."

Susy grinned back. "Maybe he won't notice right away."

"_Right_," Catherine snorted. "It's probably a good thing he's not armed."

"How's a guy supposed to get any sleep around here with you two giggling like schoolgirls?" Steve's blue eyes blinked up at them blearily.

"Steve!" Catherine felt tears spring to her eyes and she hastily blinked them back.

"Hello gorgeous," Steve slurred, smiling lazily.

"How are you feeling?" Catherine asked.

"Like a mummy," Steve frowned. He shifted slightly on the gurney before looking at the nurse in frustration. "Can you take the mask off?"

Susy glanced at the monitors before finally nodding. Carefully she removed the oxygen mask from Steve's face. "I'll get Capt. Lichten," she said, stepping out of the cubicle.

"So how are you really feeling?" Catherine asked softly, leaning over the bed and gently kissing Steve on the forehead.

"Tired and achy," Steve admitted. With effort, he pulled his hand free from the blankets and wrapped his fingers lightly around Catherine's forearm. "Although frankly I'm glad to be feeling anything at all." He shivered slightly.

"You gave us quite a scare," Catherine cupped Steve's cheek with her free hand.

"Sorry," Steve murmured, closing his eyes.

"You should rest, Steve," Catherine stroked Steve's forehead with her thumb.

"Thought for sure I was gonna die out there," Steve struggled to keep his eyes open. He wrapped his fingers around Catherine's. "Still not sure how I didn't."

"You don't remember?" Catherine asked softly.

"Don't remember much," Steve sighed. "I have to talk to Danny. Is he here?"

"You're on the Enterprise, Steve," Catherine said, lacing her fingers gently through Steve's hair. "Danny's in Honolulu."

"Oh, right…I'm glad you're here, Catherine," Steve said, his voice beginning to fade. Suddenly his fingers tightened around Catherine's hand. He forced his eyes open. "Can you get Danny on the phone? My boat…it exploded."

"We know, Steve," Catherine soothed. "Your team is already investigating. Just rest, okay?"

"Need to talk to Danny," Steve mumbled insistently. "Why won't you let me? What's happened?" He began to struggle to sit up. His heart monitor picked up speed.

Catherine placed her hands gently but firmly on Steve's chest, pushing him back against the pillows. It wasn't hard. He had barely any strength.

"Is he dead, Catherine?" Steve lay limply against the pillows, his eyes anguished. "Is that what you're not telling me?"

"I wouldn't keep that from you, Steve," Catherine promised solemnly. "Danny isn't dead, but he is hurt…I honestly don't know how bad. What I do know is that Chin and Kono are really anxious to see you."

Catherine glanced up as Capt. Lichten came into the cubicle, a tablet in his hand. Susy followed.

"Can you give us a moment, Lt.?" the doctor asked.

"Wait, don't go," Steve held on to Catherine's hand. "Where's Danny being treated?"

"Hawaii Medical Center," Catherine answered quietly.

"Can you find out how my partner's doing?" Steve asked his doctor. "His name is Danny Williams. Detective Danny Williams. He's a patient at Hawaii Medical Center."

"I'll do what I can to find out," Capt. Lichten nodded. "But I'm more concerned with how you're doing at the moment."

"I'm fine, Doc," Steve shifted uncomfortably on the gurney. "I'm getting a little warm, actually."

"What was his last core temp?" Capt. Lichten turned to Susy.

"Ninety four, and his electrolytes are coming back to within normal range," Susy said.

"All right," Capt. Lichten nodded. "Lt. Anderson, go ahead and remove the heat packs. Run another urinalysis and blood panel."

"Yes Sir," Susy nodded, tapping the orders into the tablet.

Capt. Lichten stepped up to the gurney and pulled a penlight out of his pocket. He flashed it in Steve's eyes. "You have a mild concussion, along with several contusions on your back and shoulders, probably from when you hit the water. We've been treating you for severe hypothermia and dehydration. Kidney failure is a common complication of severe dehydration, so we'll be monitoring your kidney function quite closely."

"You're saying I'm stuck with the catheter for a while," Steve wrinkled his face in distaste.

Capt. Lichten chuckled sympathetically. "Yes, I'm afraid so. Overall, though, you're doing well and as soon as we get a break in the weather, we'll transport you to Hawaii Medical Center where Dr. Noah Beckham will take over your care."

"When do you think that'll be?" Steve asked.

"Probably some time tomorrow morning, sooner if Mother Nature cooperates," Capt. Lichten said.

"And Danny?" Steve asked as Susy pulled the heat packs from around his body.

"I'll see what I can find out," Capt. Lichten nodded.

The doctor returned just as Susy was finishing the blood draw. Her patient was exhausted but was refusing to sleep until his doctor returned with news on his partner. Even Catherine could do little to help settle the Lt. Commander.

As soon as Steve saw the doctor, his heart rate quickened. "What's the word, Doc?"

Capt. Lichten nodded at Susy as he pulled a syringe out of his pocket and uncapped it. Susy wiped down the port on the IV line with an alcohol swab, and he tipped the syringe to it.

"I told you that I would get you news, and I don't believe in hiding things from my patients," Capt. Lichten said quietly. "Your partner is in critical condition. He suffered a subdural hematoma earlier this afternoon. They operated and successfully stopped the bleeding, but he's still experiencing high levels of intracranial pressure. As of this moment, he's in a medically induced coma." The doctor plunged the medication into the IV.

Steve paled. "Is he going to make it?" He gripped the rail of his gurney with one hand. He fought the medication coursing through his system, dragging him down into sleep. "Please Doc," he forced his eyes to remain open.

"I'm sorry, they just don't know, Commander," Capt. Lichten responded softly. "Get some rest. By the time you wake up, I'm sure we'll have more news."

Unwillingly, Steve gave into sleep, terrified that when he woke again, they would tell him Danny was dead.

H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50

_He was sinking. Suffocating. Green murky water closed in over his head. Tendrils of seaweed clutched at his ankles like greedy fingers, dragging him down. He heard voices, but they were muffled, distorted. Were they talking to him? He struggled to surface, but he couldn't kick free. He was going to drown and there was nothing he could do to stop it._

"_What are you doing?"_

_Steve's voice held a mixture of disgust and wonder. It irritated the hell out of Danny. He opened his eyes and scowled at his partner. Steve floated eye level to Danny, arms crossed in from of him, head cocked to the side, remarkably calm for someone who was completely submerged in water. It made Danny want to hit him._

"_What am I doing? What does it look like I'm doing? I'm drowning," Danny snapped back._

"_No, you're not. You've had this same nightmare since you were five years old and nearly drowned in Lake Hopatcong," Steve replied dryly. _

_Steve snapped his fingers and suddenly he and Danny were sitting on the grass at the side of the lake. A few yards away a little girl with brown hair swung back and forth on a swing. Her lips moved, but Danny couldn't hear what she was saying._

"_How'd you do that? And how'd you know about Lake Hopatcong? I never told you," Danny eyed his partner suspiciously. _

"_Really, Danny?" Steve stared incredulously at him. "Sometimes, I don't get you partner. Why do you insist on being so obtuse? You're having a nightmare!"_

"_Well now it makes total sense why you're here!" Danny grumbled._

"_Go on, what are you waiting for?" Steve asked impatiently. He snapped his fingers. "Wake yourself up."_

"_You think I haven't tried that already?" Danny glared fiercely at his partner._

"_Well you obviously haven't tried hard enough," Steve noted unsympathetically. He cocked his head towards the swing set. "You really want her to grow up without a father?"_

_Grace swung back and forth, completely alone. It was odd, Danny could see her there, but knew she was just an illusion, aware somehow that he could scream her name but she wouldn't hear him. He turned back to face Steve, but he was gone, in his place - Rachel. Her hair whipped around her shoulders and her face held a look of utter disappointment. _

"_I knew this was would happen," Rachel said, her voice dripping with anger. "I knew you would leave us alone."_

"_You left first," Danny said scathingly. "Found some stable, rich, safe guy who'd take care of you. It was you who gave up on us, not me."_

"_I'm not the one who's giving up now," Rachel's dark eyes blazed, their intensity making Danny dizzy. She grabbed his hand, holding it so tightly it hurt. Please Daniel," her voice broke. "Don't give up. Don't leave us alone…"_

_The ground shifted under his feet and Danny found himself back in the water. It was cold, and he was falling. The deeper he fell, the weaker the light, until finally darkness was all there was_.

H5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5O

Rachel paced. Three hours into Danny's surgery she'd given up on sitting, as if constant motion would make the passage of time go faster. Chin and Kono were just as restless, though Chin seemed much better at hiding it. Kono had been tapping nonstop on her laptop since she and Chin had arrived. Rachel had been at home with Stan when the hospital had called, letting her know that her ex-husband had started bleeding into his brain and had been rushed into surgery. They'd pulled Grace out of school and taken her home. The little girl had not taken the news well. After sobbing inconsolably for an hour, she'd retreated into herself, and curled up on her bed with one of her stuffed toys clutched to her chest, refusing to say a word to anyone.

After wrestling with the decision for an hour, she'd called Danny's parents. They were trying to arrange a flight, but even with the time zones in their favor, the earliest they could arrive would be tomorrow. At the time, Steve had still been missing, Chin and Kono unreachable - Danny was alone. At least, that's what she told herself as she left her house, leaving Stan standing on the front steps watching her with mixed emotions as she left to go be at her ex-husband's side.

Even after Danny got out of surgery, she told Stan not to bring Grace to the hospital. Children weren't allowed in the surgical ICU. Even she was only allowed to see Danny for ten minutes every hour. So she spent ten minutes holding tightly to her ex-husband's hand, ordering, pleading, and cajoling him to hang on, bargaining with God for his life. Dr. Imani told her that they'd stopped the bleeding, but were concerned about intracranial pressure. Danny's head was swathed in bandages that were only slightly whiter than his skin. Too weak to do it himself, a ventilator breathed for him. Dozens of wires and tubes snaked from his body to machines and monitors and receptacles surrounding his bed. When she reluctantly let go of his hand and was shooed out of the ICU, she spent the next fifty minutes pacing the hall.

Well into her fifth hour of pacing the hallway, the Governor showed up. After speaking briefly with Rachel, Governor Jameson had conferred with Danny's doctors and suddenly things changed. Danny was moved back to the private suite. Several nurses were assigned to his care. And Rachel, Chin and Kono were allowed full access. An orderly brought them dinner trays, but none of them could bring themselves to eat. After nine hours with no sign of improvement in Danny's condition, with tension rolling off of Dr. Imani in waves, and with Grace so distraught that the little girl was refusing to eat or go to sleep, Rachel asked Stan to bring Grace to the hospital. She didn't want her little girl to see her father like this. She knew Danny wouldn't either, but it wasn't about what she or Danny would want, it was about what their daughter needed. And she needed to see her father, needed the chance to say goodbye if the worst happened. And deep down, Rachel hoped that maybe, just maybe, if Danny heard their daughter's voice, it might give him the strength to hold on.

She walked to the window and peered outside. It was pitch black and raining as hard as she'd ever seen. It was nearly midnight when Grace entered Danny's room, her hand around Stan's in a death grip. Her husband lifted Grace into his arms and walked with her to Danny's side. Rachel stood, her back against the window, her eyes streaming tears, as she watched their precious daughter gently stroke her father's arm with one finger as she whispered over and over again, "Please don't die, Danno. Please don't die."

tbc…


	7. Chapter 7

Thank you to everyone who's left a review! I do so love hearing your reactions! You all are the most awesomest bunch of readers!

I feel like I need to ship JoaniexJony pounds and pounds of chocolate as thanks for her tremendous efforts as my beta! (And who continues to read passages after I've tweaked them for the third and fourth times!). Thank you so much, luv!

I hope you enjoy the next chapter. Thank you for reading and let me know what you think.

Chapter Seven

Rachel sat on the couch, her knees pressed to her chest, chewing absentmindedly on a fingernail. Grace sat at Danny's side, humming quietly. She held her father's hand in hers, gently stroking the top of his hand with her fingers. She hadn't left his side all night, and at first Rachel had been concerned Grace would get in the way of the nursing staff, but they had shown remarkable kindness and patience with her little girl, working around her and even rolling out one of their office chairs and raising the seating level so Grace would be more comfortable. But Grace was exhausted. Every once in a while her head would start to nod on her chest, her fingers would still on Danny's hand, and her humming would falter, but within seconds she'd wake herself up and continue her vigil. And Rachel knew that as desperately as Grace wanted to remain with her father, she had to take her daughter home. At least for a while.

She glanced at her watch. It was eight in the morning. The nursing staff had just finished rearranging the furniture, making room for a second hospital bed. Leilani had told her that Steve was en route from the Enterprise and would be sharing Danny's room. It made the decision to take Grace home a little easier knowing that Steve would soon be at Danny's side, that Danny wouldn't be alone for long. Rachel walked over to Danny's gurney and gently squeezed her daughter's shoulder.

"We're going to go now, Grace," Rachel said softly, unable to prevent her eyes from lingering over Danny's still form.

"Uh uh," Grace shook her head and held more tightly to her father's hand.

"I'm not taking you to school today, but we need to go home and get some rest. Not to mention I need a shower before your grandparents arrive," Rachel said more firmly. "We'll come back later, I promise."

"Danno needs me to stay," Grace looked up at her mother, her dark eyes filled with conviction.

Rachel knelt down next to Grace's chair and put her hand on the child's arm. "The doctors and nurses are taking very good care of him, Gracie. You don't have to worry."

"But he won't listen to them," Grace looked up at her mother, her eyes wide with concern.

Rachel stared at her daughter in confusion. "He's getting the very best of care, Grace." Tenderly she began to rub the child's back. "You need a rest, sweetheart. Daddy would want you to take a break. You haven't slept all night."

"We can't leave him alone," Grace's eyes filled with tears.

Rachel nodded in understanding. "Steve's going to be here very soon Gracie, but if it would make you feel better, we could call Kono or Chin to come sit with Daddy until Steve gets here. He won't be alone. I promise."

Grace's response was lost in the sudden loud whine of an alarm from one of Danny's monitors.

"Danno?" the little girl warbled in fear, tears beginning to track down her cheeks.

Rachel pulled the chair Grace was sitting in out of the way of the nursing team. Three nurses had swarmed the gurney and were shouting orders and relaying numbers she couldn't make any sense of. But the tone of their voices was clear enough: Danny was in trouble. A page went out for Dr. Imani and within minutes the doctor had charged into the room, taking immediate control of the chaos.

"You might want to get her out of here," Kiki said tersely to Rachel, sparing her patient's ex-wife only a glance as she absorbed the readings from the various monitors.

"Danno," Grace choked on a sob. She spilled out of the chair and stood as if frozen in the center of the room.

Rachel put her arms around her daughter's shoulders and pulled her back, well out of the way of the medical team.

Kiki barked out orders. "Leilani, let's get him started on Mannitol. Two grams in a twenty percent solution, IV push. Rayna, raise the bed to a forty five degree angle, reducing to zero in an hour. Alika, administer three mg's of Midodrine and let's hyperventilate."

Leilani dragged the drug cart from the nurse's station and began pulling out vials.

"Grace," Rachel gently shook the child's arms. "Let's go. We need to let the doctors work."

"No," Grace wailed, stiffening as she planted her feet into the floor.

"Grace Elizabeth Williams," Rachel said sternly. "Don't make me carry you out of here. This is not how your father and I taught you to behave."

Grace wriggled and struggled against Rachel's attempts to get a better grip on her arms, not once taking her eyes off the frantic movement surrounding her father's gurney. The monitors flashed alarms, their squealing soon the only sound in the room as the nursing staff rushed to complete Kiki's orders. As they hung new IV bags and injected medications, Rachel's heart was in her throat. She had the sudden intense feeling that Danny's life depended upon whether or not he responded to the treatment, and if he didn't, she didn't want Grace here to see it. She couldn't let her child watch her father die.

"Let's go, Grace," Rachel's voice brooked no argument and she grabbed both of Grace's hands and began to drag her towards the door.

"Danno!" Grace screamed. "Don't! Let go!"

Rachel bent down, putting her hands around Grace's waist. She lifted up the squirming eight year old.

"Don't!" Grace shrieked. She fought and kicked, yanking and twisting her body until she finally wrenched herself from her mother's grasp. "Don't! Danno!" Shrieks turned to hiccupping sobs, the girl's voice pleading. "Come back, please come back Danno!"

The alarms suddenly went silent. Grace pulled in a heaving breath. Too many people were crowded around her father's gurney for her to reach it so she retreated to the couch across the room, curling up in the corner. Still crying, she rested her head on her hands and stared at her father.

"Okay, I think we won that one," Kiki nodded, tiredly rubbing at her brow. "Great job everyone."

"Is he okay now?" Rachel asked, her knees weak, her stomach still twisting with nerves.

"For the moment," Kiki sighed, "but we should talk. Not here."

Rachel bit her lip. Not here, meaning not in front of the child. Because whatever you have to say is so bad Grace can't hear it. She looked in the doctor's eyes and saw sympathy. She held her breath, nearly strangling on the grief threatening to tear her apart. Rachel pressed a shaking hand to her forehead. She had to get herself under control.

"Let me call Kono. She'll sit with Grace," she finally managed to say.

"I'll be in my office," Kiki nodded. The doctor glanced over at Leilani. "Make sure his vitals are transmitting continuously to my tablet."

Rachel pulled out her cell phone, barely able to tap the right numbers. Truth be told, she didn't want to hear what Dr. Imani had to say. She didn't know how to prepare herself for Danny's death. She didn't know how to prepare her daughter. And she knew instinctually that this was what the doctor wanted to talk to her about. She wished she was a thousand miles away from here. Maybe then she wouldn't hurt so much. Maybe then her world wouldn't be in a freefall that she didn't know how to make stop.

H5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5O

"_What are we doing here, Danny?" Steve asked. He sat down on the chair across from the bed and placed his elbows on his knees._

_Danny lay stretched out on the bed, staring miserably up at the ceiling. He lifted his hand as he began to speak. "You know, the thing is, I knew. I could see it in her eyes. And then a bust went bad." He looked over at his friend. "I burst through a door and they were waiting for us." Danny massaged his chest, as if he could still feel the impact of the bullets that had thrown him against the wall._

"_What are you doing?" Steve asked impatiently. _

"_I'm telling you the story, you insensitive jerk," Danny's hand froze in midair as he glowered at Steve, "of how my marriage fell apart. The least you can do is act as if you give a damn."_

"_No… what are we doing _here_, in this crappy motel room?" Steve demanded._

"_You have someplace better to be?" Danny's voice rose sarcastically._

"_You do," Steve raised an incredulous eyebrow at the steaming detective._

"_Anybody ever tell you that you are rude and obnoxious?" Danny's blue eyes sparked with anger._

"_That would be you," Steve responded calmly. "All the time…ad nauseum."_

"_Well don't let me keep you. You can get the hell out - anytime!" Danny sat up, pointing at the door._

"_And leave you here wallowing in self pity?" Steve asked in disgust. "I don't think so." He made a bored rolling motion with his hand. "Go on, tell your story."_

_Danny lay back against the pillows, arranging his hands on his chest. He stared absently across the room. "I think until that moment, Rachel had been able to convince herself I'd be one of those cops who never draw their service weapon their entire career."_

"_She couldn't handle the thought that something might happen to you," Steve commented. He leaned back, resting his head on his hand. "It's a perfectly natural reaction." _

"_When she found out I'd been shot," Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. "She flipped out." He turned to look at Steve. "I was wearing a vest. The damage was minimal - just a couple of cracked ribs from the impact. She didn't want Grace to know and asked me to quit."_

_Steve looked at his friend in surprise. _

_Danny nodded ruefully. "Can you imagine? What the hell else was I going to do instead, sell insurance?"_

"_Did she think you would?" Steve asked quietly._

"_No," Danny sighed. "But everything changed after that day. I don't think she ever forgave herself for asking. And she sure as hell never forgave me for saying no." _

"_She loved you, man," Steve sighed. "Maybe too much."_

"_Sure…It didn't take her long to move on," Danny said bitterly._

"_Denial is a strange and powerful thing," Steve leaned forward. He tapped Danny's right temple with his index finger._

"_Hey, do you have no sense of personal space?" Danny snapped, batting Steve's hand away. He tentatively pressed his fingers to his temple. "Ow! Are you happy now?" Danny glowered at Steve, his head suddenly aching._

"_Not yet. Tell me why we're here!" Steve demanded, grabbing Danny's wrist, his fingers tightening like a vise. _

"_Get off, you jackass!" Danny whipped his legs around on the bed; yanked his arm from Steve's grip and stood up. He stalked the small room with the tension of a caged animal._

_Steve eased himself out of the chair and leaned against the wall._

"_I miss my family," Danny finally said. "I want them back. I want Rachel back."_

"_If that's what you want, you can't do it from in here," Steve crossed his arms over his chest and cast a steady gaze at his partner. "Why are you hiding?"_

"_You act like I'm doing this on purpose," Danny accused him, strutting forward. "You think I want to be trapped here?"_

"_So go open the door," Steve challenged him._

"_You want me to open the door?" Danny asked. "You want me to open that door." He pointed to the motel room doorway. "Fine. I'll open the damn door." He turned and began moving across the room._

_Pain shot through Danny's skull, driving him to his knees. He groaned, clutching at his head with both hands._

_Steve knelt next to him and grabbed his shoulders. "Open the door, Danny," he urged. "Fight it. Get the hell up and fight it!"_

"_Help me, Steve," Danny moaned. He struggled to push up from the floor. His legs trembled with the effort. _

_Steve muscled his partner to his feet. Together they stumbled towards the door. The pain crescendoed, hammering relentlessly at Danny's head. _

"_Don't give up – you hear me? You've got to keep fighting Danno," Steve whispered into Danny's ear. "C'mon – Get out of here."_

_The room began to vibrate. The light grew brighter and brighter. Danny cried out in pain. He lunged for the doorknob and fell, his shoulder slamming against the wall. It hurt too much. Everything hurt too much. He longed for oblivion. _

_A small voice whispered in his ear, a siren's call he couldn't ignore. _

"_Come back, Danno. Don't leave me. Come back."_

"_Gracie?" Danny gasped. "Where are you baby?"_

_The whisper became a scream._

"_Danno! Danno, don't let go. Don't! Danno!"_

"_Gracie!" Danny shouted. He grabbed the doorknob with both hands, hauling himself to his feet. He twisted the knob just as the light burst. It ripped through him like shrapnel. He screamed in pain and fell through the door. He landed on a cushion of darkness. He tried to crawl, but his body was shattered. He whimpered. "I'm sorry baby. I can't. I'm sorry."_

_The darkness was cool, soothing. It kissed his cheek and caressed his brow. He stopped fighting and let it take him._

H5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5O

"Doc, I'm fine," Steve protested, struggling to get up from the gurney. "I need to see my partner."

"And you will see him," Noah replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "After I finish my examination. You spent over forty hours on the open sea, and I know you're feeling better, but you are not ready to be released. And since the Governor of this state placed you personally in my care, you are not going anywhere until I've assessed your condition. Now, you can waste more of your time arguing with me, or you can let me do my job."

Steve collapsed back against the pillow and closed his eyes. He desperately wanted to see Danny, and he couldn't admit to himself, let alone his doctor, just how exhausted he was. He could feel his heart racing, as if he'd just completed a ten mile run, not simply laid around while being flown from The Enterpriseto Hawaii Medical Center. Steve took slow deep breaths, willing his heart to slow down. He couldn't let anything stand in the way of getting to his partner but when he forced his eyes open, he saw Dr. Beckham studying him.

"I'm fine, Doc," Steve murmured. He raised his hand in a tired wave.

"Is that why you just passed out for fifteen minutes? Because you're fine?" Noah asked, looping his stethoscope around his neck. "And here I thought it was because your blood pressure bottomed out and you became tachycardic. But then, what do I know, I'm just a doctor."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Steve raised his head indignantly and then suddenly noticed somehow, unbeknownst to him, he'd gained a nasal cannula. Not to mention the fresh bandage in the crook of his arm where he assumed they'd drawn more blood. "Shit." He let his head fall back against the pillow.

"We're going to move you upstairs and get you settled in, but before we go," Noah said, sitting down on the rolling stool next to Steve's gurney, "let's talk for a moment about your partner. He's in a medically induced coma and on a ventilator. He's not going to be waking up anytime soon."

"I understand that," Steve nodded firmly, "but I still need to see him. I need him to know I'm there. And despite the way I act sometimes I want you to know I appreciate the lengths that you, the staff here, and the Governor have gone to in order to make Danny, his family, and me comfortable."

Noah nodded and then stood up. "Okay, the ground rules. I will not allow you to compromise your own health. You stay in bed, you rest, and let us treat you. If I feel for one second that your recovery is being negatively impacted, I _will_ move you to your own room."

"Fine," Steve nodded again. He hesitated. "Are Rachel and Grace around much?"

"All the time," Noah said quietly. "Danny's parents are due in this afternoon. You need to understand that they might have some tough choices ahead of them. I know how close men in a unit can get, Commander, but please respect that when it comes to Danny's medical care, they make the decisions, not you."

"You mean decisions like ending his life." Steve stated flatly, even as the world slightly tipped around him.

"That's what I mean," Noah affirmed gravely.

"It's not going to come to that," Steve shook his head, gripping the rail of the gurney with his hand. "Danny's a fighter. He's got Grace to think about. He's not going to give up."

"For everyone's sake, I hope you're right," Noah opened the treatment room door and waved in a nurse. "Commander McGarrett, this is Leilani. She's one of the nurses assigned to your room."

Steve waved tiredly at the dark haired nurse, watching through half closed lids as she unplugged all the wires from the monitoring equipment surrounding his gurney. She switched his oxygen to a portable tank and then she and Noah began moving the gurney out of the room. He closed his eyes as they maneuvered the gurney down a myriad of twisting hallways and then into the elevator. His stomach did flip flops. He wanted to see Danny, more than he could possibly say. But even more than that, he needed Danny to be okay. If the worst happened, could he sit there and watch if Danny's parents decided to pull the plug? As much as he understood it was their right to do so, that it might even be what Danny would want, he couldn't accept it. He couldn't accept that Danny would never wake up.

Steve felt a hand on his shoulder and he opened his eyes.

"This is your room," Noah motioned towards a closed door with a police officer standing guard outside. "You ready for this?" the doctor asked kindly.

Steve nodded and Noah and Leilani guided the gurney into the room.

Steve had known what to expect, but his stomach still lurched when he caught sight of his partner. Or what he could see of his partner underneath all the tubes and wires. Danny may have been small in stature, but he'd never been a small man. In that bed, though, he looked small and fragile and it made Steve's chest ache.

"Please, move me closer, just for a second," Steve pleaded.

Noah slid the gurney next to Danny's, and Steve immediately reached through the bedrails and grabbed his partner's hand, squeezing it tightly. He rolled over so he could look directly at Danny's face.

"Don't give up, Danno." Steve said fiercely. "I didn't give up, so you better damn well not either. We have work to do, and Grace to get through her tweens and her first boyfriend and prom. You need to hang in there Danny. You need to keep fighting. Do not give up."

"Okay," Noah set his hand gently on Steve's shoulder. "Let's get you into bed."

Reluctantly Steve let go of Danny's hand. Noah and Leilani moved his gurney across the room towards an empty bed. It was positioned directly across from and facing Danny's gurney.

"Thank you for that," Steve looked gratefully up at Noah and Leilani.

"We thought you might rest easier if you could see him from your bed," Leilani said softly.

Steve closed his eyes. He was exhausted and feeling slightly dizzy. His back ached and his shoulder felt stiff. And seeing Danny hadn't made him feel any better. It only made him feel worse. He breathed deeply on his oxygen until the lightheadedness passed. As the medical team got him settled into his bed, he took a moment to look around the room. And then realized he and Danny weren't alone.

"Kono, Grace." His face broke into a broad smile.

Kono sat on a couch not far from his bed, Grace in her arms. The little girl was watching all the activity around Steve's bed with wide eyes.

"Hey Boss," Kono said quietly. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to be seen, Kono," Steve smiled. "Hey Gracie. I don't suppose you have a hug for me somewhere, do you?"

"Hi Uncle Steve," Grace pushed off of Kono's lap and climbed onto Steve's bed. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. "Danno said you'd want a hug."

"Well he was right," Steve gently held her in his arms. "We don't have to tell him that, though, okay?" he whispered conspiratorially.

"Okay," Grace nodded, giving Steve a small smile. She pulled her arms from around his shoulders and settled next to his chest. "Are you gonna be okay, Uncle Steve?"

"I'll be fine, Gracie," Steve assured her, softly rubbing circles on her back. "I bet you've been keeping watch over Danno, haven't you?"

"He needs me," Grace nodded. She gave a small sigh, her little body finally beginning to relax. "I think he's tired, Uncle Steve. Someone has to tell him not to leave. I'm glad you're here now. You can help me."

"I'd be happy to help you, Gracie," Steve kissed the top of Grace's head. "You've done a great job, sweetheart. I know he's fighting real hard thanks to you."

"I don't think she's slept since he went into surgery," Kono whispered, her eyes betraying her concern.

Steve's chest tightened painfully. He glanced across the room. Monitors surrounded Danny's gurney, all flashing various lights and numbers. The heart monitor beeped steadily. Danny's chest rose and fell in time with the loud whoosh of the ventilator. With the tube running down Danny's throat, the heavy swathe of bandages around his head, and his usually expressive features completely slack, Danny looked nothing like himself. Not to mention the unnatural silence. It hurt Steve painfully to see his best friend like that, and he couldn't begin to imagine what it was like for Grace. He leaned down and gently kissed Grace's forehead.

"You are the bravest girl, Gracie. Danno would be so proud of you," he murmured.

"I miss him, Uncle Steve," Grace sniffled. She flung one arm across Steve's stomach and burrowed her face against his shoulder.

"I do too, Gracie." Steve whispered.

Within seconds Danny's daughter was fast asleep, her body curled into Steve's, her breathing deep and even.

"How did you do that?" Kono stared at Steve in wonder. "No one's been able to comfort her, not Rachel, not Stan, not any of us."

"I think it's because she knows the reinforcements have arrived," he said softly, gently stroking her hair.

Kono gave him a puzzled look, but Steve knew why Grace couldn't leave this room. It was why he wouldn't leave it either. Danny needed them. He felt it as clearly as he felt his own heartbeat. He and Grace were the tethers around Danny's heart. If they let go, they would lose him. He couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't. He was back now, and damned if he was going to let Danny slip away.

tbc…


	8. Chapter 8

As always, a huge thank you to everyone who has left a review. I've been so wrapped up in final revisions of the story that I haven't had time to respond, but I appreciate every single one. And I'm so glad to know you're enjoying the story.

Another mega thank you to JoaniexJony, my awesome beta, who continues to give me great advice even after she'd thought her work was done. You're the bomb, hon.

I hope you enjoy the next chapter and do let me know what you think.

Chapter Eight

When Steve roused again, it was late afternoon. Grace was still sound asleep next to him. Rachel was at Danny's side holding his hand and gently stroking his cheek with one finger. She looked exhausted, her face devoid of color, dark circles under her eyes. And though her eyes were dry now, Steve could tell she'd been crying.

Grace stirred, sighing softly. Her eyelids fluttered and she stretched. Her dark eyes opened and she smiled up at Steve.

"Hey sleepyhead, feel better?" Steve asked, tousling her hair.

Grace nodded, rubbing at her eyes. "Do you feel better, Uncle Steve?"

"I do," Steve smiled down at her.

The door opened, and a couple who could only be Danny's parents stepped inside the room. Danny's mother couldn't have been more than five foot one. Blonde curly hair framed a heart shaped face. She had bright friendly cornflower blue eyes, the corners of which were creased by laughter lines. Danny's father towered over her, a red haired blue eyed giant, all bulk and muscle. Steve wondered what it had been like for Danny to grow up under his shadow. But when Danny's mother saw their son and stumbled, her husband caught her with gentle hands, holding on until she was ready to move forward.

"Margie, Frank," Rachel stood up, walking over and holding out her hand. "It's good to see you. I just wish it wasn't under these circumstances."

"Rachel," Margie murmured, dazedly taking her former daughter in law's hand.

Frank absently nodded at Rachel, his gaze focused on his son. His jaw clenched tightly.

"Grandma! Grandpa!" Grace sat straight up and then sprang off the bed, launching herself at her grandfather.

"Hey Chickadee!" Frank easily swung the child up in his arms, hugging her tightly and planting a kiss on her cheek. She settled against his chest and he carried her over to Danny's gurney.

"Have you talked with Dr. Imani?" Rachel asked Margie.

The older woman nodded. She walked over to Danny and gently picked up his hand. "Dr. Imani said it's up to him now." She winked at Grace and Frank, though her eyes glistened and her lips quivered. "Good thing our boy's such a fighter, isn't it?"

"You should hear him with Uncle Steve," Grace piped up. "They fight all the time."

Steve inwardly groaned as all eyes in the room were suddenly on him. "Not all the time," he said sheepishly, giving a half wave.

"Grace," Rachel interjected, saving Steve from further embarrassment. "I would really like to take you home for a bit. Would that be okay with you now?"

Grace gazed across the room at Steve uncertainly.

"I think that's a great idea, Gracie," Steve nodded. "I bet Kapuna misses you. Your grandparents and I can stay with Danny. I promise we'll remind him the whole time of all the reasons he has to come back to us." Steve crossed his finger over his heart.

"Okay," Grace nodded thoughtfully. She leaned over her grandfather's arms and lightly touched Danny's face with her hand. "I love you Danno."

Frank lowered the little girl so she could gently kiss her father's cheek. Steve marveled at how the child seemed to tune out all the medical equipment, focusing her attention solely on Danny.

Frank set his granddaughter on the floor and she took her mother's outstretched hand. Waving goodbye, she let Rachel lead her outside.

"Kapuna?" Margie asked quizzically.

"Her stuffed dolphin," Steve explained with a smile.

"Oh," Margie gave a slight laugh.

"We haven't been properly introduced," Steve said apologetically. "I'm Steve McGarrett, Danny's partner."

"Marjorie Williams," Margie said, walking across the room to shake Steve's hand. "And that's Danny's father, Frank."

"You raised a fine son," Steve said warmly, taking her tiny hand in his.

"Thank you." Tears sprang to Margie's eyes and she swiped them away with one hand. "Danny's told us a lot about you."

"Uh oh," Steve grimaced, feeling his face turn slightly red. "That can't be good."

Margie laughed. "He's certainly had a few choice words to say about you," she agreed. "But underneath it all is a lot of respect."

"Can I ask you what the doctor said about Danny's condition?" Steve asked hesitantly. He barely knew Danny's mother. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her more pain. But he needed to know what was going on with his best friend.

"She told me that as of this afternoon they've stopped giving him the drugs to induce a coma. She doesn't think it's proving effective." Margie glanced back towards Danny. Frank had grabbed a chair and was quietly sitting at his son's side. "She's hoping the Mannitol will do the trick and finally reduce the swelling. Either way, we'll know in about forty eight hours."

"Did she say if they might try to operate again?" Steve asked.

Margie pulled over a chair and heavily sat down.

"I'm sorry," Steve slumped back against his pillows. "I'm sure you're still trying to digest everything that's going on. I shouldn't be bothering you with this."

"It's okay," Margie assured him, folding her hands in her lap. "You're his best friend. I know you need to hear this. Dr. Imani said she's still considering inserting a drain, but she doesn't know how Danny would handle further surgery at this point."

"If they're letting him up out of the coma, does that mean he might wake up?" Steve shot a glance towards Danny's gurney.

"It depends on the swelling, I guess," Margie said softly.

"You should go sit with him," Steve glanced up at her. "I didn't mean to pull you away from him for so long."

"We came straight here from the airport. Stan is picking us up in a few minutes so we can get settled at our hotel. Then we'll be back." Margie reached over and took Steve's hand. "It's good to finally meet you Steve."

"Same here," Steve nodded, giving her hand a tight squeeze.

With a sad smile, Margie stood up and moved to Danny's side. She picked up his hand and gently stroked his forehead with her thumb.

Just then Stan opened the door, hovering in the doorway. "I wanted to let you know I'm ready when you are. I'll wait for you in the lobby." He held up his hands. "Take your time. There's no rush."

Margie exchanged a glance with Frank. Frank nodded, giving Danny's hand a quick squeeze before standing and turning towards Stan.

"We're ready. Thank you, Stan. It's very kind of you," Frank said gruffly.

Stan awkwardly nodded before retreating back out into the hall.

"We'll be back soon," Margie said to Steve on her way out. "Can we get you anything?"

"No thank you, Ma'am," Steve said. "I'm good."

When the door shut, Steve cast a sidelong glance towards the nurse's station. He'd noticed there was always at least one nurse on duty at all times. Her eyes never left the monitors or her patients in the room just outside. It made sneaking around a little hard to do. So he settled for complete honesty instead. He motioned her over.

"Are you all right Commander McGarrett?" she asked immediately as she made her way to his side.

"I'm fine. But I need your help…I'm sorry, I don't know your name," Steve smiled apologetically.

"Trina," the nurse smiled back.

"Trina," Steve arched an eyebrow at her. "That's a lovely name."

"What can I do for you, Commander McGarrett?" Trina held back a chuckle.

"Trina, I need your help," Steve said plaintively. "I need to talk to Danny, but I'm kinda tied down." He motioned forlornly to the tubes and wires attaching him to the equipment surrounding his bed. "You think you can free me for a little while?"

"Dr. Beckham thought you might ask us that," Trina laughed.

"Busted," Steve closed his eyes and scrubbed his face with his hand. He gave her a rueful grin. "Sorry. I had to try."

"That's why Dr. Beckham left orders to remove some of your monitors when you woke up. I was about to come out when you buzzed me," Trina smiled as she turned off the heart monitor, quickly divesting Steve of the monitor leads, blood pressure cuff, pulse oxymeter and nasal cannula. "The IV's stay in and so does the catheter," she said. "I have a wheelchair for you."

Trina opened a closet and pulled out the chair. She helped Steve move from the bed to the chair, hanging the IV and catheter bags from a pole at the back.

"Do you want a blanket?" she asked. "The hospital gowns are a little thin."

Steve nodded. "Thanks."

"No problem," Trina smiled as she spread out the blanket over his legs. "Let me know when you're ready to get back to bed." She pushed the wheelchair next to Danny's gurney and then returned to her post in the nurses' station.

Steve sighed and took Danny's limp hand in his. "Come on buddy. There's nothing keeping you down now. Time for you to stop napping and wake up."

But Danny didn't stir. The heart monitor beeped steadily in the otherwise quiet room.

"Okay, I got time," Steve squeezed Danny's hand. He leaned back in the wheelchair, making himself comfortable. "So, did I ever tell you about the time Boomer got so drunk he mistook the armory for the head and crapped into a box of grenades?" Steve snorted. "You shoulda seen the look on the Master Chief's face when he did his inventory the next day. You woulda loved that man Danny. Never heard a man rant like that. Not even you."

Steve continued to regale his friend with stories until drowsiness finally overcame him and his chin drooped down to his chest. But even as he fell fast asleep, he never lost his grip on Danny's hand.

H5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5O

Rachel leaned against the doorframe, resting her aching head against the cool wood. She gazed into the darkened room where her daughter slept soundly, her body curled around the stuffed dolphin Danny had given her after they'd gone to the aquarium. She startled at Stan's touch on her arm.

"She's sleeping," Stan whispered in awe.

"Finally," Rachel whispered back, nodding wearily. "She ate most of her supper too." She gave Stan a wan smile, and carefully pulled Grace's door halfway closed. She reached for his hand and together they walked downstairs and out onto the lanai. Rachel turned her face to the cool breeze. They weren't near the ocean, but she could still smell the tang of salt in the air.

"Are you leaving me?"

Stan's words crashed through the silence and Rachel shivered. She looked at her husband, his face bore more hurt than anger, his tone full of sadness. A thousand avoidances to the question flashed through her mind, but the truth was, she didn't know what she wanted anymore.

"I thought I knew why I left him," Rachel felt her hands trembling. She gripped the patio rail. "It was stupid to think that by divorcing him I could spare our daughter from this pain, that I could spare myself."

"You left because you were afraid you might lose him?" Stan stepped up next to her.

Rachel felt herself pull away. She hated herself for it, but her body was repelling backward as if on its own volition. And she knew Stan felt it, could feel her rejection ricochet off of him. She clenched the rail and forced herself to stop.

"It sounds ridiculous when you put it that way," Rachel laughed weakly. She took a deep breath and stared up at the moon. "But I lived every day in fear. What it took me a long time to realize is that it wasn't anyone's fault. He's a good cop. To ask him to do something else was like asking him to stop breathing. I wasn't being fair. It was just one of many signs that I was no good at being his wife."

"It doesn't mean you didn't love him," Stan sighed and rubbed tiredly at his eyes.

"I still love him, Stan," Rachel whispered. She turned to face her husband, her eyes glistening with tears.

"I know," Stan's shoulders slumped.

"I don't know what to do anymore," Rachel's voice was hoarse with emotion.

"I know," Stan said. He pulled away from the rail and began walking towards the door. He turned around in the doorway. "I have a meeting in Singapore tomorrow. I was going to let Rubanks take it, but I think I should go myself. I'll be back in a few days."

Rachel turned around, but Stan had already disappeared inside. Tears slid down her cheeks. She covered her face with her hands and sank to the patio floor. She dropped her head to her knees and quietly cried until she couldn't cry anymore.

H5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5O

_Danny sat on the wooden beach chair and gazed out at the bright azure blue of the Pacific Ocean. He knew this place; it was Steve's backyard. He reached down and picked up a handful of sand. It felt warm and gritty…and real. He opened his fingers and let the sand slide back down to the ground. He felt someone sit down next to him and he knew without looking that it was Steve._

"_What am I doing here?" Danny asked._

"_That, my friend, is the question, isn't it?" Steve replied, stretching his legs out and scrunching his bare toes in the sand. He cast a sideways glance at his partner. "Want a beer?"_

"_Sure," Danny shrugged. "Why not?"_

_Steve handed one over and the two men clinked bottles. As they drank, they stared silently out at the water. It lapped peacefully at the shoreline. _

"_Are we dead?" Danny asked, glancing over at Steve. "Am I in hell?"_

"_Hell? How can you say that?" Steve swept an outraged arm in a long arc toward the beach. "This is Hawaii. It's gotta be heaven."_

"_Tell me one good thing that's happened to me in this pineapple infested hellhole," Danny said bitterly._

"_You met me," Steve grinned impishly. "You can't say that isn't a good thing."_

_Danny shook his head and laughed. "Despite wanting to kill you on numerous occasions, you have made things interesting, Steven."_

"_Admit it, you weren't having any fun before you met me," Steve laughed._

"_I had plenty of fun, Steven. I lived in Jersey," Danny glowered at his friend. "Atlantic City. The Jersey Shore. Hurricane Harbor. Springsteen concerts. Need I go on?"_

"_You'd miss me," Steve nodded knowingly. _

"_Yeah," Danny admitted with a heavy sigh. "I probably would. I am only saying this because we…" he waved his arm back and forth between the two of them, "are both dead, but I feel closer to you than my own brother." He took a long swallow of beer._

"_How do you know we're dead?" Steve tipped the bottle to his mouth. "I mean, that's a pretty major assumption isn't it?"_

"_Well you were lost at sea," Danny stared morosely at the water. "And I'm guessing my brain exploded."_

"_You could be dreaming," Steve suggested._

"_If this is a dream," Danny chopped his hands in the air. "Then why the hell can't I wake up?"_

"_Maybe you're not trying hard enough," Steve shrugged, glancing over at his friend._

"_Maybe I'm not trying hard enough?" Danny glared at Steve, his face flushing red._

"_Yeah – that's what I'm saying," Steve nodded._

_Danny flung himself out of his chair and began to pace. "Should I click my heels together three times and say 'there's no place like home?'"_

"_Well, it might be worth a try," Steve's lips twitched with laughter._

"_You just want to see me look like a goof," Danny sputtered._

"_No, no I really do think you should try it. Try everything," Steve chortled._

"_You can kiss my fine Jersey ass," Danny held his beer bottle up in a mock toast._

"_Nice, Danny," Steve said sarcastically. "Real nice. I'm just trying to help."_

_The world tilted and the next thing Danny knew he was sitting on his butt in the sand. "Steve?" he said weakly. _

"_Danny?" Steve came towards him, leaning down to touch him on the shoulder. "Danny, you with me man?"_

"_I…" Danny blinked his eyes. Everything was fuzzy, hazy. Suddenly it felt like there wasn't enough air._

_Steve grabbed his hand. "Just hang on to me, man. I'll get you out. Just hang on."_

_Danny grabbed Steve's hand and held on for all he was worth. And then the sand, the beach and the water all blinked out of existence. He fell. And he fell hard. Like he'd been slammed into the earth with the force of a thousand hands. The breath was knocked out of him. He couldn't move, as if his blood had been replaced with lead. There was sound. But it was distant, like he was hearing someone else's TV from three apartments over. He felt someone take his hand. It took every bit of energy he had, every bit of concentration, but he squeezed back. He hung on. He wouldn't let go. And then he lost it. He felt himself spinning, spiraling, directionless, into the dark._

H5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5O

Steve came awake with a start. It was late, the room dark other than several low lights around Danny's bed and dimmed fluorescents in the nurse's station. He groaned and rubbed at the crick in his neck.

"You should go back to your bed," Margie glanced at Steve in concern.

"'M okay," he grunted, squirming in the wheelchair in an attempt to get comfortable.

"I doubt that," Margie noted warmly. "Besides, I think Trina was about to intervene anyway."

"How's he doing?" Steve leaned forward, looking up at Danny's monitors.

"No change, really," Margie said softly. She gently stroked Danny's arm. Frank was sitting in a chair next to her, his hand supportively on her back.

"I guess he just needs a little time. That's not unusual, for Danny," Steve smiled fondly.

"He always did hate change, didn't he Marg," Frank nodded. "Remember that year we switched to an artificial tree?" Danny's father started chuckling.

"Oh dear," Margie sighed. "You'd think we'd killed Santa Claus."

Steve began to laugh. "I'm hearing the rant in my mind. Right now. 'This is not a tree,'" Steve mimicked Danny's voice. "'It's a piece of plastic made to look like a tree. And let's not even talk about the smell. Oh that's right, there is no smell, because it's not a tree!'"

"Oh my stars," Margie was laughing so hard tears welled in her eyes. "You sound just like him."

"He's opinionated, that's for sure," Frank added. "And stubborn as hell."

"Wonder where he got that from?" Margie arched a knowing eyebrow.

"Oh, like you're one to talk," Frank affectionately rubbed his wife's shoulder.

The pressure on Steve's hand was light at first. So light he didn't really notice Danny's fingers curling around his. And then Danny's fingers tightened into a real grip.

"Danny?" Steve stared at his partner in shock. He looked over at Danny's parents. "He's squeezing my hand." Steve lurched to his feet, hooking his elbows around the rail of Danny's gurney to keep himself from falling. "Danny," he said again, searching Danny's face for any sign of awakening. "Come on buddy, keep squeezing my hand and open those baby blues."

But Danny's eyes didn't open, and moments later his fingers went slack.

Steve gently placed his hand on the top of Danny's bandaged head. "It's okay, Danny. You did good. You did real good. You just keep trying. You hear me, Danno? You keep fighting." He looked over at Danny's parents. "He's gonna make it. I know he is."

Steve slumped back into his wheelchair, completely spent.

Margie stood up and came around behind him. She slid both arms around his shoulders and rested her cheek against his hair. "Thank you for believing in him, Steven." Gently she kissed the top of his head. "I know your parents aren't with us anymore, but I wish I could tell them what a fine man their son turned out to be."

Steve wiped a tear from his eye. He reached up and squeezed Margie's hand.

"Now," Margie said authoritatively, "Off to bed with you. You're not fully recovered yet, and I won't have you running yourself down."

"Yes Ma'am," Steve murmured, allowing Trina to wheel his chair back across the room. He had no intention of arguing. He needed to get his strength back. Danny's recovery was going to be a marathon, not a sprint. He had to be ready for whatever might come in the long days ahead.

tbc…


	9. Chapter 9

Thank you so very much to everyone who's left a review. Your support for this story is both wonderful and amazing. I'm continually blown away by it. Thank you to everyone who's reading.

JoaniexJony, my fabulous beta, what can I say? You rock, my dear. You just do.

I'm posting this chapter a little early. I thought just maybe there might be a few of you waiting for it, but I might not get the next chapter up until Monday or Tuesday,…I hope you enjoy it, and as always let me know what you think.

Chapter Nine

It had been two days since Danny had squeezed Steve's hand and the doctors were finally beginning to sound hopeful. The swelling in Danny's brain had gone down. He had begun to take spontaneous breaths, was reacting to pain, and he was periodically opening his eyes. Which, Steve decided, looked kind of freaky. Danny had also gained a tube down his nose. Steve had winced in commiseration as they were inserting it, but Danny had been unconscious for days and nutrition was becoming an issue.

Steve managed to sweet talk the nurses into letting him move his bed to within five feet of Danny's. His own recovery had hit a snag, though. A kidney infection that had left him feverish, with an aching pain in his back and side. The antibiotics and painkillers were helping, but he was feeling weaker than he liked and instead of being released, he was still stuck in bed with an IV in his hand. The one positive was that despite the infection, they'd removed the catheter the day before. He'd promptly stolen a pair of bright blue scrubs and ditched the hospital gown.

"So," Steve glanced over at Danny. "Chin and Kono are on their way over. They're going to get us caught up on the case. Then Frank and Margie are bringing Grace. Your parents are great, by the way. They've already invited me for Christmas. I think we should all go. What do you think?" He glanced sideways at his partner.

Every couple of hours the nurses changed Danny's position to help with his circulation and to prevent bed sores. That morning they'd stacked a mound of pillows behind him and propped him on his side, facing Steve. The nurses had tucked one of Danny's arms around Kapuna, Grace's rather large stuffed dolphin. The little girl had dropped it off before school, insisting it stay with Danno in her absence.

"Nothing to say? Really?" Steve paused, arching an eyebrow at his silent partner. "Okay."

He glanced at Danny again and startled at the sight of Danny's blue eyes staring back at him.

"Danny?" Steve swung his legs over the side of his bed and peered at his partner. But the blue eyes didn't track and within seconds they'd slid shut again.

He watched Danny intently for the next few minutes, but there was no change. The heart monitor beat the same steady rhythm. Steve sighed and pulled his legs back up onto the bed.

"Max told me that judging from the angle of impact of that wound on your noggin, whoever hit you was probably not much taller than you. So you know, that rules out like ninety percent of the men on this island," Steve stopped and looked expectantly at his friend. "Oh come on, Danno! Not even a small rant? How badly am I going to have to insult you to get a reaction? When in your life have you ever been this quiet?"

Steve looked up at the knock on the door. Kono poked her head in.

"Hey Boss," she smiled. "Can we come in?"

"Please," Steve sighed.

"Are you okay Steve?" Chin followed his cousin inside. They pulled two chairs over and sat in between Danny and Steve's beds.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Steve leaned back against his pillows. "Get me up to speed, guys. Where are we at?"

Chin shot a hesitant glance at Kono.

"What?" Steve sat up. "What was that look?"

"Erik Varnell is dead," Chin said with a heavy sigh. "He was found hanging in his cell about two hours ago. So far, it looks like a straight up suicide."

"I want Max to look at that body," Steve pounded his fist into the mattress. "Shit. He was our one good lead."

"Not our only one, Boss," Kono gave Steve a smug smile. "Erik Varnell has a sister. We're still trying to locate her, but we think Jimmy Teer might have used her as leverage to threaten Varnell into killing Tignor. She may know something that could help us."

"Or she could be dead," Steve scrubbed at his face in frustration. "Teer's cleaning house."

"There's one other thing, Steve," Chin said. "We only tied Jimmy Teer to the attack on you because of the C-4. The same C-4, by the way, that you and Danny found in that warehouse thanks to an anonymous tip. So it got me to thinking. I checked out the call to HPD about the boys who witnessed your boat exploding. The woman claimed her two boys saw the explosion while they were kayaking. They came home and told her and she called the police. I went to interview the boys. Not only did their mother deny making that call, one of the boys broke his leg two weeks ago."

"We're being led around by our noses, Boss," Kono leaned forward intently.

"It's all been a set up," Steve shook his head in disbelief. "From the very beginning. Someone's trying to set up Jimmy Teer."

"The question is who and why," Chin added.

"Kono, have you been able to track down the origin of both those phone calls?" Steve asked.

"That was a bust," Kono shook her head. "Burner phones."

"Find the sister," Steve ordered. "Erik Varnell's at the center of this. He's the only one who had anything to gain from both my death and Danny's."

"You got it," Chin stood up. "We'll check back as soon as we know anything else."

"And keep the guard on the door," Steve looked up at them. "Until we know exactly what's going on here, I don't want Danny unprotected."

"You got it, Boss," Kono stood up, giving Danny's hand a squeeze before following Chin outside.

Steve glanced over at Danny. His eyes were open again. Like before they gazed unfocused across the room before re-closing. Steve sighed, rubbing at his temples. A headache was beginning to bloom behind his eyes. He ignored it, lowered his hands and continued his one sided conversation with his partner.

"You know," Steve said thoughtfully. "There's one other person who can answer all my questions - Jimmy Teer. My guess? He knows exactly who'd want to frame him for killing a cop, and why. What do you think, Danno?" Steve looked back at Danny. "Did Erik Varnell really kill himself? Or did Jimmy Teer have him murdered?"

Steve paused a moment, holding his hands out towards Danny. "Again? Nothing? You know, I have to say, I'm a little disappointed Danno. You're really not holding up your end of this conversation. I'm having to do all the work here."

Danny's eyes flew open.

"I'm telling you, I know one surefire way to get Jimmy Teer to talk. I bet if I hang him off a roof he'll start singing like a canary. Still, as I'm not back to full strength yet, there's a good chance I'd drop him before he could stop screaming and tell me anything useful."

Danny blinked. It happened so fast Steve wasn't even sure he saw it. Slowly he swung his legs over the side of the bed, trying not to get his hopes up.

"So I'm thinking maybe the shark tank is the way to go," Steve tried to keep the excitement out his voice as he stood up on shaky legs, grabbing ahold of his IV pole for support. "'Course now I'm going to have to borrow someone else's boat."

Danny's blue eyes locked on Steve.

"Danny?" Steve asked softly as he shuffled the short distance to Danny's side. Steve peered into his partner's eyes as he slid his fingers around Danny's hand. With his other, he gently cupped the top of Danny's bandaged head. "Danny, you with me?"

Danny's fingers closed around Steve's. He nodded and then winced. He closed his eyes as his grip on Steve's hand tightened.

"Easy Danno," Steve murmured soothingly. "You're okay."

Finally Danny opened his eyes again. But his grip on Steve's hand didn't loosen as his blue eyes looked up at Steve in disbelief. His lips curled around the tube in his mouth.

"Was that an attempt at a smile?" Steve grinned. "One would think you're actually happy to see me." He lightly stroked Danny's forehead with his thumb.

Danny's brow furrowed into a frown.

"And now you're glaring at me," Steve chuckled. "That didn't take long."

With his free hand, Danny motioned towards Steve's IV line, raising his eyebrows at his friend in question.

"I'm fine Danno," Steve smiled. "Nothing a little rest won't fix."

Danny nodded carefully, relief evident in his eyes.

"Hey guys," Leilani approached the bed and smiled down at Danny. "It's good to see you awake. I've alerted Dr. Imani and she's on her way."

Danny closed his eyes and moved his head on the pillow. He reached up and touched the tube in his mouth, looking at Steve in frustration.

"I know you want to talk Danny, but the docs need time to make sure you're okay before they take the tube out. Grace is fine," Steve smiled down at his friend. "She's been here every day. She really is the most amazing little girl, Danno. You'd be so proud of her. She's coming by to visit later. Your mom and dad are here too. Got on the first plane they could and they've barely left your side. They're wonderful people, Danny, and they love you so much. Everyone is going to be so happy to see you're awake. We've all been so worried about you."

As Steve talked, Danny's grip on his hand tightened, his blue eyes glistening with tears. Several spilled over, trickling from the corner of his eyes, making slow trails down his cheeks.

"It's okay, Danny." Steve soothed. Tenderly he brushed away the tears with his thumb. "The worst is over, partner. You're gonna be fine now. Everything's gonna be fine, okay?"

Steve gently stroked Danny's forehead, soothing his distressed friend. Finally the tension in Danny's face eased and his grip on Steve's hand loosened.

Steve was so focused on Danny he didn't hear Kiki enter the room. He looked up when she approached the other side of the bed.

"Hey Doc," Steve murmured. "Look who's awake?"

"I see that," Kiki grinned. "How's he doing, Leilani?"

"Really well, Dr. Imani. His vitals look good," Leilani said, hovering just to the doctor's left.

"Excellent," Kiki smiled. "Leilani, can you move those pillows so we can get Danny rolled onto his back?"

"Yes, Doctor," the nurse complied, carefully pulling the extra pillows from the bed.

As the three of them gently repositioned Danny onto his back, he turned his head on the pillow to glance up at his doctor.

"Hi Danny," Kiki said, picking up Danny's hand and sliding her palm under his. "Can you blink once for yes and twice for no?"

Danny blinked once.

"Excellent," Kiki smiled. "Is my name Angelina Jolie?"

Danny rolled his eyes and blinked twice.

Kiki laughed. "Can you squeeze my hand, Danny?"

Danny's fingers tightened around hers. "Very good," she motioned towards Steve. "Can you squeeze your partner's?" She nodded with satisfaction when she saw Danny's fingers tighten around Steve's.

Kiki set Danny's hand back down on the mattress and walked towards the foot of the bed. She pulled the covers up, exposing his feet. She instructed her patient to press his feet as hard as he could against her hand.

"Excellent, Danny," Kiki said approvingly. "Just one more. You're doing great."

Steve bit his lip as the doctor pulled her reflex hammer from her pocket and ran the metal rod along the soles of Danny's feet. The test was simple, but the wrong response would indicate neurological damage. He breathed a small sigh of relief when Danny's toes curled downward and he gripped Danny's hand.

"Good job, man," Steve smiled down at Danny encouragingly. "Told you everything was going to be fine."

Danny's lips quirked around the tube, but then his eyes lost focus and his eyelids drooped. His fingers went slack in Steve's hand.

"Doc!" Steve yelped in alarm. "Something's wrong!"

"It's okay, Steve," Kiki said quickly. She tucked the blankets back over Danny's feet and walked to the head of the bed. She pulled out her penlight and flashed it deliberately in each of Danny's eyes. She glanced over at the distraught SEAL. "He's sleeping. He's just sleeping, and he's going to be doing a lot of it for a while."

"Jesus," Steve sank weakly to the edge of Danny's mattress. He glared at his partner. "You need to stop scaring the shit out of me, you hear?" He rubbed his hand against his forehead and then looked over at the doctor, who was scrutinizing several of Danny's monitors. "Please tell me he's going to be okay."

"He's doing really well," Kiki smiled over at Steve. "His ICP is normal and he's been taking regular spontaneous breaths for the past twelve hours. We'll wean him from the respirator and hopefully we'll be able to remove the breathing tube before he wakes up again."

"When do you think that will be?" Steve asked. He was still holding on to Danny's hand. He couldn't bring himself to let go.

"Honestly, he could sleep for four hours or he could sleep for twelve." Kiki answered with a slight shrug. "It's hard to predict."

"We need to tell his family," Steve said, gazing down at Danny's face. His partner looked peaceful, but anxiety nipped at Steve's mind, the dreadful thought that Danny might yet still slip away from them. He fought the urge to try and make Danny wake up again.

"Leilani will take care of it," Kiki reassured him. She gazed kindly at Steve. "This was a huge step forward, but it was just the first of many. You need to pace yourself, Steve. You're still a patient here yourself. You need your rest too."

"I couldn't sleep, Doc," Steve winced and shifted slightly on the bed.

"Back ache?" Kiki guessed.

"A little," Steve admitted reluctantly.

Kiki nodded sympathetically. "Well, a kidney infection will do that to you." She walked to the nurse's station and asked Leilani, "Does Dr. Beckham have a standing order for pain medication and sedatives for Commander McGarrett?"

"Yes, he does, Dr. Imani," Leilani confirmed.

"No, I don't want any sedatives," Steve objected, looking over at the doctor. "What if Danny wakes up again?"

Kiki opened the drug cart inside the nurse's station and pulled out a vial and syringe.

"Trust me, he's down for the count for a while." Kiki loaded the syringe with the medication. "If you take care of yourself now, you might even be discharged by the time he starts to consistently come around."

Steve blew out a long breath of frustration. Reluctantly he let go of Danny's hand. He hated to admit it, but Kiki was right. He was exhausted and having a really hard time remaining upright. But even he was surprised when his legs started trembling when he tried to stand. Leilani grabbed him around the waist and supported him as he moved back to his own bed.

"I hate this," Steve grumbled as the nurse tucked the covers around him. He felt the sedative almost as soon as Kiki injected it into his IV line. Drowsiness pulled at him and his eyes slid shut.

H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50

Steve was sound asleep when Margie and Frank returned with Grace. Dr. Imani had already warned them she didn't expect Danny to wake up again for hours, but as it turned out, it was one of the few times Dr. Imani was wrong.

Margie settled into a chair between Danny and Steve's beds and pulled her knitting out of her handbag. On the other side of Danny's bed, Grace curled up in Frank's lap, one of her hands wrapped around Danny's as she and her grandfather quietly paged through several picture books. They'd just finished the last book when Rachel slipped inside the hospital room door.

Crossing over to Grace, Rachel rested her hand on the top of Grace's head and whispered, "It's time to go sweetheart. We'll come back tomorrow morning before school. Do you want to kiss your Uncle Steve and your father goodnight?"

Grace nodded, carefully climbing down from her grandfather's lap. She walked to Steve's bed, standing up on tiptoe to drop a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Goodnight Uncle Steve," she whispered. Then she turned to her father's bed and repeated the process, arching up on her toes to softly kiss him on the cheek.

But as she said goodnight, Danny's head turned on the pillow. Grace froze, her breath catching in her throat. She stared wide-eyed into her father's bleary blue eyes.

Danny's gaze locked on his daughter's face. He lifted his hand and tenderly brushed her cheek with his thumb. He arched an eyebrow at her and attempted a smile around the tube.

"Danno?" Grace whispered, her lips quivering. Completely overcome, she crossed her arms over her chest, her entire body shaking. Tears started streaming down her cheeks. Her face twisted and her breath came in short gasps as she began to sob.

Danny slipped his arm around his daughter's back, gently pulling her to him. She threw her arms around his shoulders and he wrapped his arms around her back. He held her tightly as she bawled into his chest. The tears quieted as quickly as they'd begun – like a passing storm in the desert. Danny rubbed small circles on her back until he felt the trembling in her small body finally pass.

When Rachel saw that Danny was beginning to have trouble keeping his eyes open, she interceded, lightly touching Grace on the shoulder.

"We need to let your daddy rest, sweetheart. It's time for us to go," Rachel said. "We'll come back tomorrow."

With a sigh, Grace pulled away. She reached up and cupped her father's cheek with her hand. "I love you, Danno," she said.

Danny touched his chest with his finger, drew the outline of a heart in the air and then rested his palm on her chest.

Rachel slid her hand around Grace's shoulder and covered Danny's hand with her own. She squeezed his hand tightly and nodded down at him. "I'm so glad you're all right, Daniel."

Danny turned his hand around, entwining his fingers in hers. He blinked sleepily up at her and then glanced around the room. His eyes filled with tears when he saw his parents.

Frank smiled down at him, lightly cupping the top of Danny's head with his hand. Then he turned and lifted Grace into his arms, moving out of the way so Margie could see her son. She bent down and kissed Danny on the forehead. He struggled to keep his eyes open.

"Don't fight it, Danny. Go to sleep." Margie gently stroked her son's cheek. She picked up his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "It's okay. We'll be here when you wake up."

Briefly Danny's fingers closed around hers and then he nodded slightly and his eyes slid shut. Margie carefully set his hand back on the mattress. She looked over at Frank and Grace with shining eyes, and for the first time since Rachel's phone call, believed everything was going to be all right.

H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50

The first thing Danny noticed was that everything hurt. His head throbbed. His throat was raw and every time he swallowed, he felt like he was choking on the feeding tube that snaked from his nose to his stomach. He was glad to be alive, but felt absolutely miserable. There didn't seem to be any part of his body that didn't have a tube, monitor, or wire attached to it. He couldn't move a damn muscle without uncomfortably jostling something.

Danny couldn't recall much, but dimly he remembered waking up other times. There were fleeting images of people sitting, talking to him. Steve. Grace. His mom and dad. Rachel. Kono and Chin. There were nurses and doctors and tests. Lots of tests. But everything seemed to bleed together and he'd lost all track of time. He didn't even know what day it was. All he did was sleep. And he figured he'd had enough now to last him a lifetime.

The second thing he realized was that this time he felt truly alert. Danny glanced to his side; his father was sitting in a chair reading a book. Across the room, Grace was studiously working on a drawing.

He cleared his throat. "Hey guys," he said, his voice hoarse from disuse.

"Danno!" Grace dropped her crayons and hurtled towards his bed. "You're awake."

"Easy Gracie," Frank cautioned. "Go slow."

At her grandfather's gentle admonishment, Grace slid to an abrupt stop next to Danny's bed.

"It's okay, Dad," Danny smiled. "Come 'ere Monkey." He lifted his arm and Grace shot under it, planting a kiss on her father's cheek and wrapping both arms around his neck. Danny dropped his hand to Grace's back. "Now that is the best hug, ever. It's just what I needed. Thank you." She pulled back up and stood next to the bed, her fingers wrapped around his forearm.

"Are you feeling better today Danno?" Grace asked.

"You make me feel better, Gracie," Danny answered, smiling fondly at his daughter. He glanced over at his father. "Dad, can you help me sit up a little?"

"Sure," Frank nodded. He slightly raised the head of the bed and then helped to prop Danny against several pillows. He gently squeezed Danny's shoulder as his son's face paled. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Danny nodded shortly, shutting his eyes against a wave of dizziness. He breathed heavily on his oxygen until the feeling passed. Grace's fingers clutched tightly at his arm and when he looked over at her again, he found her staring at him, her dark eyes wide with worry. He smiled at her reassuringly. "I'm fine, babe. Just sat up a little too fast, that's all." He patted the bed next to him. "Come here."

Grace sat down on the bed and Danny folded her small hand inside his as he looked up at her. His daughter had never been an anxious child. But there was a weight in her eyes now. A weariness. And a hint of fear. As Danny had hovered between life and death, his daughter's innocence had been shattered. He hated what this experience had done to her. Maybe Rachel had been right all along; he should have protected her from it, at any cost.

Still holding on to her hand, Danny lightly swept one finger along her temple. "Tell me what's going in there, Monkey. What are you thinking about?"

She shrugged, biting her lip. She looked down at the bed.

Gently Danny squeezed her hand. "I scared you pretty bad, didn't I?" At her slight nod, Danny said, "I'm sorry, baby."

"It's okay, Danno, you didn't mean to." Grace said softly, finally looking back up at her father. She leaned forward and ghosted a finger along the bandages covering his head and then lightly touched the oxygen tubing that looped around his ears. "Does it hurt?"

"A little," Danny admitted, catching Grace's eye. "But it's not that bad, I promise. Everyone's been taking such good care of me, especially you. Can I ask you a question, Gracie?" Danny tenderly tucked a wisp of her dark hair behind her ear.

Grace nodded. Danny looped an arm around her waist and pulled her towards him. She lay down, worming her body next to his and resting her head on his chest.

"Are you still scared?" Danny asked quietly, rubbing his hand in small circles over her back.

Grace nodded. "Sometimes I have bad dreams," she whispered.

"What do you dream about?" Danny bent down and kissed the top of her head.

"That you went away and didn't come back," Grace's body tensed and she burrowed her face into his shoulder. "It makes my tummy hurt."

Danny wrapped both arms around his daughter, squeezing her tightly. "I want you to do something for me, okay babe?"

"Okay," Grace nodded, turning her face up towards her father.

"When you have a bad dream, I want you to call me, no matter what time it is. Will you do that?"

"Okay," Grace nodded again.

"Do you promise? Pinky swear?" Danny lifted up his hand and held out his pinky finger.

"Uh huh," Grace said. She rolled slightly off Danny's chest and reached for his finger, wrapping her pinky finger around his. Firmly, they shook their entwined fingers up and down.

"Okay," Danny pulled her back into another hug.

Grace gave a small sigh, relaxing into her father's embrace. She closed her eyes and settled her cheek on Danny's chest. It wasn't long before she was asleep.

Danny looked over at his father, guilt wrenching at his stomach. He opened his mouth to speak, but his dad held up one finger and shook his head firmly.

"This is not your fault, Daniel," Frank said. "Sooner or later our children learn that bad things happen. You can't protect them from it. You'll drive yourself crazy thinking you can."

Danny half heartedly nodded. "I don't know how to help her," he said, gently running his fingers through Grace's hair.

Frank smiled warmly. "You already are, son. She has you, she's surrounded by people who love her, and besides, the young have a remarkable ability to bounce back. She'll be okay. Just give it some time."

"Thanks Dad," Danny let out a long breath. He reached over and gripped his father's hand. "I'm really glad you're here."

"There's no other place I'd be," Frank said gruffly. He tightly squeezed Danny's hand before setting it back on the bed. "You look tired. Do you want me to lower the bed again?"

"No," Danny smiled, glancing down at the sleeping child snuggled against him. "It's perfect the way it is."

Danny's eyes drifted closed. His final thought before sleep dragged him under was that he could never make things right for his daughter so long as the bastard who put him here was out there roaming free.

tbc…


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks so very much to everyone who's left a review! Getting a chance to see your reactions and thoughts truly does inspire me to keep writing. It makes me feel like I'm not working in a vacuum, and I appreciate that so much!

JoaniexJony, virtual hugs and cookies to my most awesome beta! Mahalo, sweetie!

Hope you enjoy the next chapter, and as always, I'd love to hear what you think.

Chapter Ten

Steve rolled over and opened his eyes. His stomach growled and his mouth watered - someone was cooking breakfast. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a cooked meal to start the day, so he hopped in the shower, threw on some clothes and headed downstairs.

Margie Williams turned around from the stove and smiled as Steve stumbled, yawning and bleary eyed, into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Steve," she smiled cheerfully. "Coffee? Black, just like you like it."

"Mrs. Williams," Steve gratefully took the cup, holding it up to his face and breathing it in. "I think I'm in love."

"I'm not quite sure how Danny would feel about that, not to mention Frank," Margie giggled. She lightly slapped Steve on the arm. "And how many times have I told you to call me Margie?" She turned off the stove and took a saucepan from the burner, deftly tossing its contents onto a plate. "I know you're health conscious, so the scrambled eggs are made with egg whites, and the turkey bacon is the leanest I could find." She reached across the counter to the toaster. "And whole wheat toast, dry." She handed the plate to Steve and then grabbed a cup of coffee for herself and sat down at the kitchen table.

"Oh my god, this smells awesome," Steve moaned, grabbing a fork and digging in. "No wonder Danny likes food so much." He washed down a mouthful of food with a gulp of coffee. "You and Frank are welcome to stay as long as you want."

"Thank you, dear," Margie laughed. "Frank and I appreciate you opening up your house to us this past week, but when Danny's released from the hospital in a few days, we'll be heading home."

"You know, I kind of thought you'd be at the hospital by now," Steve shoved another forkful of eggs into his mouth.

"Danny wanted some time with Rachel. Frank swung Grace by the hospital this morning and then took her to school. Thanks for letting us use your truck by the way. I hope it hasn't been too much of an inconvenience for you."

"Nah," Steve grinned. "I've got Danny's Camaro." He lifted his coffee cup to his mouth and glanced sidelong at Margie. "You don't like Rachel much, do you?"

Margie set her cup down and began to busy herself cleaning the kitchen. Steve finished off the plate full of food, washing it down with the rest of the coffee.

Finally Margie began to speak. "It takes a certain kind of woman to live the life. Rachel jumped every time the phone rang, lived in so much fear she couldn't see she wasn't even living anymore. When she finally figured out she didn't want to be a cop's wife, she left. I just wish she'd had that little self revelation long before she broke my boy's heart."

Steve got up and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. He began to rinse the dishes in the sink. "Then Danny wouldn't have Grace," he observed.

Margie glanced over at Steve and smiled. "True. And that little girl is a treasure, not to mention the light of my boy's life. You know, Danny never would have come to Hawaii, either, if he hadn't followed Grace here."

Steve put down the dish he was scrubbing and looked uncertainly at Danny's mother. "The way things have worked out, I wouldn't blame you for thinking that wasn't such a good thing. I'm sorry Danny got hurt."

Margie turned and began scrubbing at the stove. "March 1989. A house fire killed two men in my Frank's unit. May 1992. Six teenagers crashed their car into a ditch and drowned before anyone could get to them. September 2001," Margie looked up at Steve, the sponge tight in her hand. Her voice throbbed with grief, "Nearly 3000 people dead…civilians, firemen, cops…" Her arms trembled.

Steve slipped his arm around her shoulders and she rested her head against his chest. "I guess what I'm trying to say Steven, is that tragedy doesn't discriminate. Doesn't matter if you're married to a cop, a fireman, or an insurance broker. That's what Rachel never understood. All you can do is live your life. It wasn't your fault Danny got hurt." She swiped the tears from her cheeks and gently patted his shoulder. "And I don't regret him moving out here, not anymore."

"Why not?" Steve asked curiously.

Margie smiled. "Because despite all of my son's bitching and moaning, I've never seen him so happy." She scrubbed at a spot on the stove and then set the sponge down. "And it's not because of Rachel. It's not even because of Grace. It's you and your team. He's part of something special, and he knows it."

"Yeah. I feel…we feel, the same thing," Steve turned and leaned his back against the counter. "We call it ohana. It means we're family. That no one gets left behind or forgotten."

"I like that," Margie smiled.

"And for the record," Steve enveloped Margie in a hug and dropped a gentle kiss on the top of her head. "His parents are pretty special, too."

Steve pretended not to notice as Margie surreptitiously wiped tears from her eyes.

"I've got to head to work, but if you need anything, you let me know," Steve squeezed her hand. "Thanks for breakfast."

"Be careful out there," Margie called after him as he banged out the front door.

Steve smiled and gave a surfer's wave before jumping into the Camaro and driving away.

Margie wandered into the living room, pausing to look at the pictures of Steve's family on the walls. She lingered over a picture of a young McGarrett family. Steve couldn't have been much more than eight. His mother's arms were draped around his shoulders. A dolphin pendant hung from her neck, glittering in the light. Her face was filled with joy and hope. Margie's heart ached for Steve, for the grief that was ever present just beneath the surface. Some wounds, she knew, could never be healed.

H5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5O

Danny sat on top of the covers of his hospital bed and watched his ex-wife gaze down at the courtyard outside his room. She wore a bright pink sundress that accented her slender figure and he found himself holding his breath. She was beautiful, and he'd always known he'd never gotten over her, that he loved her now just as much as he did back then. Rachel had a way of seeing through him. It had never been more evident than when Mattie was in town. She had been the only person he wanted to be with when Mattie had run away.

"You look a lot better today," she noted, turning her head to look at him. She smiled, but her dark eyes were troubled, and the shadows underneath them were hard to miss.

"It's amazing what not wearing a hospital gown will do for you," Danny joked lightly, motioning with his hands at the blue pajama bottoms and grey t-shirt Steve had dropped off for him the day before.

"How are the headaches?" Rachel asked.

"They come, and they go," Danny admitted with a shrug. He picked at the tape holding his one remaining IV in place and drew his knees to his chest. "The docs say they'll clear up in time."

"That's good," Rachel nodded. "Dr. Imani says you might be going home in a few days?"

"Yeah, well, not home, exactly, I'll be going to Steve's until I'm back on my feet," Danny closed his eyes and pinched his brow with his forefingers. He looked up at his ex-wife. "Rach, what are we doing?"

"We're having a pleasant conversation about your recovery," Rachel twisted the wedding ring on her finger. Abruptly she stopped and shoved both hands behind her back.

"Come here for a second, babe," Danny said softly, holding out his hand.

Hesitantly, Rachel crossed the room and took Danny's hand. She sat down next to him on the edge of the bed.

"I don't know if I ever properly thanked you for saving my life," Danny gently brushed his thumb over the back of Rachel's hand.

"I didn't have a choice. I had to get you out of there," Rachel lowered her eyes and barely suppressed a shiver. "I was so scared for you, Daniel."

"I know," Danny brought Rachel's hand to his lips. "Tell me what you want," he whispered. Tenderly he began kissing each finger.

Danny felt her shudder. Their touch had always been electric. They fought and they made love with the same passion. He looked into her dark eyes and felt the same spark that had drawn him to her so long ago. He throbbed with desire. He caressed her face, slid his hand around the back of her neck. She trembled and gripped his arm with her hand. He could feel her wavering and slowly he began to draw her closer. Her wedding ring glinted in the light.

She let out a strangled cry and jerked her hand away. She sprang from the bed, her body shaking and trembling. She was taut as a string, as if she was being pulled between two opposing forces. Danny and Stan. Past and present. She was frozen by indecision and Danny knew if she didn't make a choice soon, it was going to rip her apart.

"I know you still love me," Danny said with quiet conviction. "Just like I still love you. Why did that stop being enough?"

"I don't know," Rachel gasped. She wrapped her arms tightly around her stomach. She bit back a sob, her face scrunching as if in intense pain.

"Just come here, Rach," Danny pleaded. He held out his hand. "We can make this work."

"No we can't," Rachel shook her head. "I can't. I'm sorry, Danny."

And then the door opened behind her and it was like a spell had been broken: she snatched up her purse and she fled.

Kiki flattened herself against the door to avoid being bowled over by the distraught brunette.

"I suppose it's a stupid question to ask if she's okay," Kiki commented wryly, stepping into the room. She took one look at Danny and said, "However, I am going to ask you." She picked up his wrist and took his pulse. "I believe I recommended you avoid stressful situations for a while."

"I didn't think you meant it when you approved my being released into Steve's care," Danny snarked. He fell back against the pillows and closed his eyes.

"I could always change my mind," Kiki said dryly, pulling a blood pressure cuff off of a nearby tray table.

"I'd really rather you didn't," Danny sighed, looking at his doctor apologetically. He handed Kiki his arm and as she firmly wrapped the cuff around his bicep he added, "I mean, Steve's place has only been shot up once. What are the odds of it happening again?"

As Kiki finished taking his blood pressure she shook her head and said, "My mother always warned me to never tempt the universe; she's a fickle lady. I'm sure it will come as no surprise to you that your blood pressure is a little high, so how bad is that headache right now?"

"A little more than 'not bad' and a little less than 'like a volcano erupting in my head,'" Danny grudgingly admitted.

"Okay," Kiki gave Danny a motherly pat on the arm. "Back under the covers. It's naptime for you."

"I am really tired of playing the role of invalid," Danny glowered, reluctantly sliding his legs under the bedcovers. He settled back against the pillows with a heavy sigh as Kiki slightly lowered the head of the bed.

Kiki pulled a pre-loaded syringe from the nearby drug cart. "I don't think I need to remind you that your body went through a major trauma, Detective." She wiped the IV port with an alcohol swab and injected the sedative. "You're not going to bounce back from it without a lot of rest." She tossed the spent syringe into the red Sharp's container. "That should make you sleep for a while."

"Were you ever married, Doc?" Danny asked, fighting a yawn.

"Once," Kiki answered softly.

"What happened?" Danny turned his head on the pillow to look at her. He blinked his eyes in attempt to focus; the room had gone fuzzy around the edges.

"Go to sleep, Detective," Kiki settled the covers around her patient's shoulders. "I'll be back to check on you later, and I expect your pressure to be down."

"Dr. Imani?" Danny yawned and sighed. "Is it weird to finally realize my marriage is truly over more than a year after my divorce?"

"No…I think I'd call it acceptance," Kiki acknowledged. "And that can often be a long time in coming."

"It sucks," Danny muttered. He sighed again, his body relaxing as the sedative made its way through his system.

"Agreed," Kiki chuckled. She lowered the lights and stood in the doorway until she was sure the detective had finally fallen asleep. Stepping outside, she softly closed the door behind her. She frowned in puzzlement. The guard who'd been posted at the door when she'd entered was gone.

She pulled out her cell phone, flicking through the contacts until she came to Lt. Commander McGarrett's name. She supposed it was possible HPD had pulled the guard from Danny's room, but given Steve's concern for his partner's safety, she didn't think it likely.

As she put the call through, a young man with a bouquet of flowers approached Danny's door.

"Is this…" he peered down at his paperwork, "Detective Danny Williams' room?" he asked.

"I'm sorry," Kiki said, "you'll need to leave those at the admitting desk. I'm not even sure how you got up here. This is a private floor."

"Look, can I just leave the flowers with you?" the man shoved the flowers towards her. "I still have five deliveries to make before noon."

"No, you cannot," Kiki held up one hand to stop the delivery man from approaching any closer.

"_Dr. Imani, is that you?" _Steve's voice sounded from her phone. _"Is everything okay?"_

"Danny's fine, Commander McGarrett," Kiki answered into the phone as the young man grudgingly walked back towards the elevator. "But did you have the guard removed from Detective Williams' room?"

"_No, I didn't," Steve answered worriedly. "Are you saying he's not there?"_

"That's correct, Commander," Kiki replied.

"_I'm on my way right now. Can you stay with Danny until I get there?" Steve asked._

"Of course," Kiki nodded.

Steve hung up and she slid the phone back into her pocket, using the time to peruse some test results on her tablet. Eight minutes later, the guard returned to the door. Four minutes after that, Lt. Commander Steve McGarrett stormed around the corner.

Kiki gave the Commander a small wave as she headed back towards her office, cringing inwardly for the police officer at the door. Something told her he was about to have a very bad afternoon.

For as long as Danny could remember there were two constants in the Williams' household. The smell of his father's cigar wafting up from the back porch in the evening, and the clack of his mother's knitting needles from the living room downstairs.

His sister Connie maintained their mother managed to retain her equilibrium and good nature by transferring all the worry and frustration caused by four rambunctious children and a firefighter husband into the yarn itself. Over the years mounds of scarves, baby blankets, quilts, and sweaters had made their way into Christmas presents and church rummage sales. And if the act of knitting had given their mother a sense of peace, the vision of her sitting by the fire, her hands steadfastly working the needles, had also given her family a sense of comfort.

It was the steady clickety-clack of the needles that slowly brought Danny back to awareness. Woozily he rolled over and blinked his eyes. His mother sat in a chair at his side, fingers busily weaving through yarn and needles. "Hi Mom," he murmured sleepily, smiling over at her. "What are you making?"

Margie smiled back at her son and set her knitting aside. "A shawl for your cousin Dana's little girl," she replied, leaning over the bed to drop a light kiss on Danny's forehead. "How are you feeling?" she asked, her hand lingering on his cheek.

"I'm okay," he shrugged. "I feel a little sluggish, but I think it's the sedative Dr. Imani gave me."

Margie nodded. "She thought you might sleep through the afternoon."

"What time is it?" Danny asked.

"About one thirty," Margie chuckled. "Even when you were a boy you never did sleep through naptime. Now Mattie was a different story. That boy would have slept from dawn to dusk had I let him." Margie's blue eyes saddened a moment. Then with a slight shake of her head she picked up her knitting needles and sent Danny a broad smile as her fingers once again returned to work.

"Mom, don't," Danny glanced at his mother with concern as he reached over and placed his hand on top of hers, stilling them. Margie dropped the needles into her lap. "You don't have to pretend everything's all right, you know."

"Everything _is_ all right," Margie squeezed Danny's hand between her own. "Now that I know you're going to be okay."

"I'm sorry," Danny said softly. "I'm sorry for scaring you these past few days. And I'm sorry -" he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment.

"Danny," Margie leaned over and brushed her fingers through his hair. "Stop it."

"I couldn't make him stay, Mom," Danny whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"Sometimes, no matter how you try, you can't make someone do what's right, Daniel," Margie said firmly. "Look at me, son."

Obediently, Danny opened his eyes and glanced up at his mother.

"I will always love Matthew, just like I love all of my children. That love is and always will be unconditional, no matter what they do. But your brother made his own choices. And let's be clear, they were bad choices. You did everything you could to help him make the right one, Daniel, but it's not your fault he took the wrong path. That guilt is not your burden to bear - it's Mattie's, and Mattie's alone. Understand?" Margie lightly stroked Danny's forehead with her thumb.

Danny nodded, his mother's words and touch giving the comfort even Rachel hadn't been able to provide. "Do you think he'll ever come home?"

"I hope so, Danny," Margie smiled sadly. "And if he does, we'll be there for him."

"After I kick his ass for causing you and Dad so much pain and worry," Danny grumbled, wrapping his fingers gently around his mother's hand.

"I love you," Margie grinned, shaking her head slightly at her son.

"I love you too, Mom," Danny smiled around a yawn. "I'm glad you and Dad came out here. I've missed you."

"Nothing would have kept us away, Danny," Margie said, continuing to gently massage Danny's forehead with her thumb. "Go back to sleep."

Danny's eyelids fluttered, his blue eyes growing heavy. But a knock on the door followed by Steve stalking inside wearing what could only be called his aneurism face, brought Danny fully awake. His father followed Steve inside, a takeout bag in his hand. He closed the door behind them.

"What is it? What's going on Steve?" Danny pushed himself to a sitting position.

"It's probably nothing," Steve shook his head, stopping at the foot of Danny's bed. He cast a guarded look in Margie and Frank's direction.

"If it's nothing," Danny narrowed his eyes and waved a hand at his partner, "then what's with the face?"

"I told you Danny, I don't have a _face_," Steve crossed his arms over his chest and glowered down at his partner.

"Does this have something to do with the dressing down I saw you give to that nice young officer posted outside the door?" Danny's father asked.

Danny arched an eyebrow at Steve. "Is said officer still lucid or has he gone catatonic?"

"Office Kalaka decided it would be _okay_ to leave your door unattended for twenty minutes while he took a call from his girlfriend," Steve answered in disgust. "I simply explained to him what would happen if such a breach of protocol occurred again. I believe he got the message. And no," he rolled his eyes at Danny, "he's not catatonic."

"But you don't think Danny's safe here, do you?" Frank asked, glancing worriedly at his son.

"I'm rationally concerned," Steve admitted. "A florist's delivery guy got right to Danny's door and was about to walk in when Dr. Imani stopped him. The delivery checked out, but I spoke with Dr. Imani, and she believes Danny's stable enough that she could release him later this afternoon."

"I want you guys to go home," Danny glanced at his parents. "I know you were planning on leaving in a few days anyway, but I think you should leave tonight. If the guy who attacked me and Steve makes another move, I don't want you getting caught in the middle of it."

Frank and Margie gazed unhappily at each other, but nodded.

"If it'll ease your mind for us to go back to Jersey tonight, we will," Frank said. "But be careful, Son."

"I will, Dad," Danny promised.

"If you guys will excuse me, I've got a few things to take care of, I'll be back later," Steve waved and left the room.

"You should eat," Danny motioned towards the now forgotten takeout bag.

"Are you hungry?" Margie asked Danny.

"No," Danny shook his head, lying back against the pillows. His stomach ached and truth be told, he wasn't sure if it was the lingering effects of the head injury or the fact that his parents were leaving in several hours. He wished they'd had some time together outside his hospital room.

"What are you thinking about?" Margie cocked her head at her son.

"I was just thinking you guys need to come back," Danny looked up at his parents. "Spend some time with me and Grace and actually have a chance to see some of the islands." He chuckled ruefully. "I'm sure Steve would love to act as tour guide."

"You just tell us when, son. We'll be here," Frank grinned. "Margie always wanted a vacation in Hawaii. Now we've got a good excuse."

"You have to promise me one thing," Danny said, staring at his parents in grave seriousness.

"What's that?" Margie asked, glancing at Frank in trepidation.

"I beg of you, don't ever tell that to Steve," Danny entreated them. "As far as he knows, you think this is a pineapple infested hellhole, without a decent slice of pizza. And the only reason you'd visit is because it's the home of your darling granddaughter and son."

"You got it," Frank smothered a laugh.

"Thank you," Danny smiled gratefully.

"I think maybe you should rest for a bit," Margie suggested. "You're going to have a very busy day ahead of you."

Danny yawned and nodded, letting his mother tuck him back under the covers. He supposed it didn't matter if you were eight or thirty five, parents had a way of making everything seem like it was going to be all right. The pain in his stomach eased and he drifted into a peaceful sleep.

By the time Dr. Imani had finally cleared Danny to leave the hospital it was nearly eight o'clock at night. He'd already said goodbye to his parents and Steve had run them back to his house to pack before taking them to the airport, filling Danny's prescriptions along the way. Steve wasn't back yet, so Chin and Kono had driven Danny to Steve's house and gotten him settled. He'd resisted going to bed, instead insisting they get him up to speed on the investigation into his and Steve's attacks.

Danny lay on Steve's couch in the living room, a stack of pillows at his back and a blanket across his legs. His head throbbed. He rubbed at his forehead, his fingers skirting the narrow bandage that still encircled his head. "This is making my head hurt…more."

"You doing okay there, brah?" Kono looked up from her laptop. "I think Steve left your pain meds in the kitchen."

"No, I'm fine," Danny waved a hand at her. "I'm just trying to wrap my mind around this twisted trail of evidence that is leading us absolutely nowhere: Erik Varnell, despite being the only person who'd clearly benefit from Steve's and my demise, denied any involvement in our attacks. He does admit, however, to killing Matthew Tignor on Teer's orders. And then, for no apparent reason, he offs himself. To date we've found no evidence that he had either the means to pay for the hit on us or the opportunity to order it."

Danny pushed his arms under him, levering himself higher against the pillows. He huffed slightly, steadfastly ignoring the slight tremor in his arm muscles. He didn't care if it was normal for people who'd had brain surgery to experience fatigue. Just because it was normal didn't mean he had to accept it. He closed his eyes and told himself the room wasn't spinning.

"Max says the autopsy on Varnell is inconclusive," Chin said, placing a glass of water and a bottle of pills within easy reach of Danny's hand. "He can't definitively say whether or not Varnell was murdered. However, the day after 5-0 became involved in the investigation of Varnell's death, a prison guard named Jacob Tolliver walked off the job and emptied his bank account. His bank records show a fifty thousand dollar wire transfer from an account in the Cayman's the same day Varnell supposedly committed suicide. Tolliver is no where to be found, but there's no record of him leaving the islands either."

"Everything circles back to Jimmy Teer," Danny opened his eyes, relieved to see that the room had, in fact, stopped spinning.

"Somebody not only built a bomb using Teer's own C4, but according to Charlie," Kono added, "they also used a design that now ties Teer to multiple bombings from the past five years. Most of those bombs took out other arms dealers or drug runners who were encroaching on his territory, but one of them cost two undercover cops their lives."

"There is no doubt someone is doing their damndest to hand deliver Teer to the cops," Danny again rubbed tiredly at his head. His eyes were also joining the party and beginning to ache. "And it has to be someone pretty high up within his own organization."

"There's an unknown player on the game board, Danny. Someone who had an interest in setting Varnell free _and_ getting rid of Jimmy Teer at the same time." Steve said as he walked inside, closing the front door behind him. A large black bag swung over his shoulder. He walked across the room towards Danny, and, narrowing his eyes, crossed his arms over his chest and peered closely at his best friend.

"Exactly," Danny lightly sliced one finger through the air. "Any thoughts as to how we're going to track said mysterious person down?" He glanced up at Steve, his hand freezing mid-motion. "What are you doing?"

"You look pale," Steve noted, gazing intently down at his partner. "Did you have that soup your mom left? Or your pain meds?"

"Did you get my folks to the airport okay?" Danny avoided the questions.

"Of course," Steve turned to Chin. "Did he eat?"

"Ah, I don't think he was all that hungry," Chin said.

"Were you feeling nauseous? Noah gave me a prescription for an anti-emetic if you are," Steve walked over to the couch and dropped the bag to the floor.

"Um, so if you guys are good," Kono arched an eyebrow at her cousin as she began edging towards the front door. "We're gonna go. HPD has a car parked outside. I'll be back tomorrow morning at seven, Steve."

"Good, thanks Kono," Steve said, sitting down on the coffee table in front of the couch. "And we do have a place to start Danny. Remember our good friends Eddie Kaina and Greg Younan? They're both out on bail. I think it's time they tell me everything they know about their boss, Jimmy Teer, and his organization."

"Wait. What?" Danny held up one finger. "Are you guys babysitting me now? And you, Steven," he jabbed his finger at his partner, "are not going to talk to Younan or Kaina without me. The last time we dropped by unexpectedly they tried to kill us."

"You, Daniel," Steve mimicked, "are only out of the hospital because I think you're safer here than there. That, and because Noah and Kiki agreed to an early release, on the condition you stay here and take it easy. Now give me your arm."

"Excuse me?" Daniel sat up straighter, outraged.

"Yeah," Chin drawled as he followed Kono to the front door, "we'll see you guys tomorrow. That is if you don't kill each other before then," he muttered under his breath.

Kono smothered a laugh as the two cousins fled the battle zone.

"Give me your arm," Steve repeated impatiently. "I have to take your blood pressure."

"You what? You have to take my what! My blood pressure? What are you, my nurse now?" Danny's eyes widened and his voice shot up an octave.

"You know, you're not accomplishing anything here Danny other than making your blood pressure fly through the roof," Steve explained reasonably. "One of the conditions for releasing you into my care was that I send Kiki your vitals in the morning and at night until she says I don't have to do it anymore."

"Is there some reason a pretty nurse can't stop by in the morning and at night to tend to my health needs, Steven? Why would you deny me that one small pleasure?"

"Why bother a nurse when I can do it?" Steve grinned. "Now give me your arm. Or I'm going to call Kiki and let her know you're being a combative patient and she should come stick you full of needles."

"You have no sense of personal boundaries," Danny stubbornly crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his partner.

Steve pulled the blood pressure cuff out of the black bag. "Don't be such a baby. Come on, give me your arm."

"How do you even know how to do this?" Danny grumbled, sullenly handing his arm to Steve.

"All SEALs have basic medical training," Steve wrapped the cuff around Danny's bicep. "Besides, this is one of those automatic cuffs." He pointed to the digital tablet attached to the cuff. "No experience required."

Danny closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the pillows as the cuff tightened around his upper arm.

Steve whistled. "See? I told you it was going to be high."

"I hate you, Steven," Danny muttered.

"Ya know, let's give it a half an hour and we'll do it again," Steve suggested. "In the meantime, I need to take your temperature." He pulled the thermometer out of the bag.

"Give it." Thin lipped, Danny held his hand out. "I'll do it myself." He snatched the object from Steve's hand.

"And you need to drink some water," Steve pushed the glass forward with one finger. "You need to stay hydrated. Otherwise, Kiki is going to have me put the IV back in."

"Why are you doing this?" Danny raised his eyebrows at Steve.

"Doing what?" Steve asked innocently.

"Why are you making me want to kill you?" Danny asked through clenched teeth.

Steve ducked his head and gave a half laugh. "I've kinda …missed you…this…you know."

"Oh," Danny said, the steam going out of his fight.

The thermometer beeped and he shoved it towards Steve. "It's normal."

Steve wiped the thermometer with an alcohol swab and swapped it in the bag for a pulse oxymeter. He held it out. "Are we going to fight about this too?"

With a resigned sigh, Danny opened his palm, accepting the plastic finger clip. He clamped it on to his index finger. When it was done, Steve noted the results and put it away. He picked up the blood pressure cuff.

"We should try this again, probably. I'd let you do it…" Steve hesitated, holding the cuff out to Danny, "you just might have a hard time…you know…getting the…cuff on…"

"Fine. Whatever." Danny thrust his arm towards Steve. "Just do it."

They sat quietly until the reading popped on the tablet's screen.

"There we go," Steve smiled. "That's better." He removed the cuff and put it back in the bag. He pulled out his phone and texted the results to Danny's doctors.

"I may have had a little trouble keeping down the soup," Danny admitted softly.

"I kinda thought you might," Steve dug in his pocket and pulled out another pill bottle, waving it slightly back and forth. "I filled the anti-emetic. Docs said you should take it after you eat. Want to give it another try?"

"Sure," Danny sighed heavily, bracing his head against his hand.

"After you eat you should take one of the sedatives and go to bed. The guest room is made up for you." Steve lightly touched Danny's forearm, all trace of kidding gone. "You just had brain surgery, Danny. You're going to get better; you just have to give yourself a little time."

"I know," Danny nodded. "The brain surgery I can deal with." He waved his hand in a half motion towards the bandage on his head and scowled. "But did you see what they did to my _hair_? Butchers. I should arrest them for criminal use of hair clippers. I'm not kidding Steven. It is not right."

Steve laughed and stood up. "I'll go heat the soup."

By the time Steve came back into the living room, bowl of steaming soup in his hands, Danny was sound asleep on the couch. Steve set the bowl down on the coffee table. He reached over and pulled the blanket up, gently tucking it around Danny's shoulders. He walked over to the light switch and flipped it off. He stood a moment and looked at his sleeping partner. He couldn't bring himself to think about how close he'd come to losing Danny. But if there was one thing he knew with absolute certainty, he was going to get the bastard who'd done this and he was going to bring him down.

tbc…


	11. Chapter 11

Many thanks to everyone who's left a review! I truly do appreciate them!

As always lots of hugs and chocolate to my wonderful beta JoaniexJony. Thank you sweetie!

I hope you enjoy the next chapter and do let me know what you think! Thank you for reading!

Chapter Eleven

Danny sighed and rolled over, burying his head further under the covers. The murmur of voices drifting from downstairs brought him to awareness, and he yawned, stretched and lifted his head to look at the clock on the bedside table. He frowned in confusion: it couldn't possibly be four in the afternoon - How had he slept that late? The room was dark, the light of afternoon kept at bay by heavy curtains. With a groan, he shoved the covers off and pulled his legs around the side of the bed.

He stumbled to the bathroom. Leaning over the sink, he peered into the mirror. He had to admit he looked like shit. His face was pale and gaunt, his blue eyes dull, tired and shadowed. And his hair. Jesus. What they'd done to his hair. Matching large stubby bald spots on his right temple and the back side of his head looked like a Mohawk gone horribly wrong. He put a hand to his temple, running his finger lightly along the pinkish healing scar. He winced, the skin still tender. A fading bruise in various shades of green and yellow radiated out across his temple. It wasn't a pretty picture.

Scrubbing his hand over his face, he quickly ran a toothbrush over his teeth and then grabbed a comb and tried to exert some control over his hair. He threw a pair of sweats on over the boxers he'd slept in and swapped his t-shirt out for a fresh one. He was pretty sure he wouldn't win any beauty contests, but at least he was presentable to whatever visitors Steve had downstairs. As he made his way to the staircase, the voices became more distinct. He heard a high pitched giggle and he smiled. Grace.

"I sunk your battleship Uncle Steve!" the little girl crowed.

"Yes you did. You'd make one hell of a Navy commander," Steve laughed. He looked up as Danny stepped into the living room. "Good morning, Sunshine. Would you like some tea?" He pointed towards the small teapot and tiny cups gracing the coffee table.

"Danno!" Grace called, sprinting across the room towards her father. "You're awake!"

Danny bent down and pulled his daughter into a fierce hug. "Hey Monkey."

"Uncle Steve is teaching me how to play Battleship," Grace pulled away and grabbed Danny's hand, leading him to the couch.

"I see that," Danny arched an eyebrow at his partner.

"I've already sunk his destroyer _and_ his aircraft carrier," Grace sat down, pulling Danny with her.

"She's brutal," Steve grinned at the little girl before holding his hands up towards Danny as if to forestall his reaction. "Sorry about the game but you were still sleeping and Mary and I used to play this when we were kids; it's one of the few games I have around the house."

"No, it's all right," Danny waved off Steve's concern with his hands, "it's not like you were teaching her to shoot an AK-47 in the backyard."

"I would never do that, Danny," Steve protested strongly. "She's obviously too little for an AK-47."

"Too little?" Danny put his hands over Grace's ears. "Too little? What would you have her shoot instead? A 38 special?"

"Now that's a great gun," Steve nodded enthusiastically. He was having a hard time containing his laughter. Danny was so easy to get riled up. "But it's got a wicked kick."

"You," Danny stabbed a hand at his partner before returning it to Grace's ear, "are not funny, Steven."

"I am a little funny," Steve nodded sagely. "Don't cha think so, Gracie?"

"Um-hmmm," the little girl giggled, nodding her head.

"I don't think covering her ears actually works," Steve noted with a grin.

Danny glared at Steve as he dropped his hands from his daughter's head.

A car pulled up in the driveway and Steve pushed back the curtains to look outside. "I think it's your ride," he said to Grace. He got up to open the door, nodding at Rachel's husband in welcome.

"Are you ready to go, Grace?" Stan stood awkwardly in the doorway.

Grace nodded, throwing her arms around Danny before getting up to retrieve her backpack. "Love you Danno!" she called.

"Love you more," Danny called after her. He got up and watched as she climbed into the car. He stood leaning against the doorway until the car finally disappeared around the corner.

"Haven't seen Rachel much lately," Steve commented.

"No," Danny replied, wandering into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator door and stared inside. After several minutes he closed it again. He glanced over at Steve who'd followed him into the kitchen and was lounging against the counter. "Any luck finding Younan or Kaina?" Both men had jumped bail, and 5-0 had spent the last several days trying to track them down.

"Younan's still in the wind, but Kaina's ass is back in jail. He got pulled over on a routine traffic stop. He tried to run, but HPD gave chase and nailed him. I've had him placed in protective custody. No way is Teer getting to this one. I'm going out to Waiawa Correctional tonight to interrogate him," Steve answered. He walked to the refrigerator and pulled a piece of Tupperware out of the freezer. "You want to talk about it?"

"Nothing to talk about," Danny shrugged.

"Uh huh," Steve tossed the plastic container into the microwave and started it up. "Turkey casserole. You need to eat."

"Yes, Mother," Danny rolled his eyes. He pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and sat down. "Speaking of, I think my mother managed to cook enough food to last for the next year."

"I think this is a good thing," Steve filled a glass with water and set it front of Danny.

"Oh hell no, I'm taking that food with me when I go back home," Danny narrowed his eyes at Steve territorially.

"I'm not talking about the food, Danny," Steve frowned. "I'm talking about Rachel. I think it's a good thing because now you can leave the past where it belongs and move forward."

"Thank you for that assessment, Dr. Phil. Been hitting the Relationship section of the local Barnes & Noble recently?" Danny said sourly, slumping over the table. He rolled the glass of water between his hands and then rested the cool glass against his forehead.

"You haven't had your pain pills yet, have you?" Steve reached up into one of the cupboards and pulled the pill bottles down. "You'll need to eat first."

"I want to go with you out to the prison. I want to go back to work," Danny looked over at his partner.

"No way," Steve shook his head. "You're barely out of the hospital and not even approved for light duty. We'll talk again after your follow up with the docs next week."

"If I have to lie around doing nothing for one more day I'm gonna lose my mind." In frustration, Danny set the water glass down hard on the table. Water sloshed over the top.

"Feel better?" Steve arched an eyebrow at Danny.

"No," Danny glowered. "No, I do not feel better."

Steve pulled out the chair across from Danny and sat down. "I know it's frustrating to be sidelined, and I know it's hard when you're stuck with nothing but your own thoughts all day, but we came so close to losing you Danny…" Steve ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "We're not taking any chances with your recovery. That means you follow doctor's orders." He glanced up at Danny and smirked. "And if you don't, I'll handcuff you to the bed."

"You would too - I hate you," Danny closed his eyes and returned the water glass to his forehead.

"You always say that, and it's never true," Steve smiled confidently. The microwave stopped and Steve got up, dishing the casserole into a bowl. He set it in front of Danny. "Eat up, take your pain pills and go to bed. I expect you to be sleeping by the time I get back."

H5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5O

"Gotcha," Kono smiled. She'd been painstakingly searching every piece of Erik Varnell's history she could get her hands on. She'd tracked him from the time he was born, trying to find any photographs, any records that might point to a current location for his sister. And finally she had. When Erik was ten, the house he lived in with his sister and father burned to the ground. In the newspaper filings surrounding the incident, she'd found a story that included a photograph of the shell shocked siblings. The photo was grainy and taken long before digital had become the norm.

She'd spent the last day cleaning up the image until she finally had a crystal clear picture of the six year old Giselle. All she had to do now was run it through the age enhancing program to make the photograph current. And from there, she planned to run it through every piece of facial recognition software she had available.

As it turned out though, she didn't need the software. As the six year old tow-headed little girl morphed into a thirty two year old woman, her adrenaline surged.

"Oh my god," she whispered, staring in shock at the familiar face. She lunged for her phone, drumming impatiently on the control table with her fingers as the call connected. "Answer the phone, Steve. Answer the damn phone."

But he didn't, and it went straight to voicemail.

"Steve," Kono said. "I know who Varnell's sister is. We've got a problem. Call me back as soon as you get this."

She ended the call and stared again at the computer aged photograph. She turned back to her computer and began pulling up every bit of data she had on Hayley Peterson, for Kono now knew that the janitor who'd she'd always thought had a crush on Danny was actually Giselle Varnell, the sister of the man Danny had been about to put away for life.

H5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5O

Steve leaned back in his chair and stared coldly across the interview table at Eddie Kaina. "You're not getting out on bail this time, Eddie," he said. "And forget about a plea bargain. You're gonna go down for shooting at me and my partner outside that warehouse – that's two counts of attempted murder. Add to that possession of illegal weapons and gun running and guess what? You're never getting out."

Eddie stared sullenly at the floor, slumped back in his chair.

"Then again, maybe you won't end up serving that much time," Steve said thoughtfully. "People connected to Jimmy Teer have a way of dying young."

That got Eddie's attention, and his eyes jerked towards Steve.

"Matthew Tignor," Steve cocked his head at the prisoner. "Erik Varnell. What do you prefer? A shiv in the gut?" Steve made a stabbing motion towards his stomach. "Or death by strangulation?"

Eddie tensed and shifted his eyes back toward the floor. He leaned forward, running his hands over his thighs.

"You talk to me though," Steve suggested helpfully, "and we can prevent all that. I don't care about you, Eddie. I want Jimmy Teer. The State's willing to deal – they'll reduce the charges and let you serve your time in a prison on the mainland, far away from the reach of Jimmy Teer."

"What do you want to know?" Eddie said churlishly.

"For starters, where is he?" Steve asked, setting his elbows on the table.

"Underground," Eddie shrugged. "I don't know where."

"What's your best guess?" Steve narrowed his eyes.

"He has other stashes. He's probably moving them though," Eddie's leg began to shake nervously. "Can I have a smoke?"

"Why did Erik Varnell kill Matthew Tignor for him?" Steve asked.

Eddie snorted with derision. "Varnell was an idiot."

"How so?" Steve leaned forward, his patience growing thin.

"Jimmy said he'd give the bitch up if Varnell didn't cap Tignor," Eddie shook his head in disgust.

"The bitch being Varnell's sister, Giselle?" Steve clarified.

"Duh." Eddie smirked.

Steve slammed his hand into the table. Eddie jumped. Steve shot to his feet and shoved the table, hurtling both the table and Eddie's chair backwards until Eddie slammed into the wall, the table digging viciously into the gunrunner's chest.

"Fuck, man!" Eddie gasped. He clutched at his chest and stared at Steve in shock.

"This is not a game, you piece of shit!" Steve shouted, his eyes blazing with fury.

"Leggo," Eddie panted. "Shit! I want my lawyer!"

"Then the deal's off the table," Steve pressed his hands against the table, digging it further into Eddie's chest.

"Fuck! Shit! Okay man, let off! You crazy son of a bitch!" Eddie yelped.

Steve yanked the table back. "Talk!" he commanded.

"Jimmy never woulda given up Giselle," Eddie rubbed at his chest. "Varnell was too stupid for words."

"Explain what you mean!" Steve gripped the table edge with his hands.

"Okay!" Eddie raised his legs, trying to protect his midsection. "Giselle makes the sweetest bombs you ever saw, man."

"Wait a second," Steve stopped dead in his tracks. "Are you saying Giselle, Erik Varnell's sister, handles all of Jimmy Teer's explosives?"

"Pretty sure he fucked her too," Eddie sneered.

"Was she in on it?" Steve demanded. "Did she know what Teer was threatening her brother with?"

"Nah, man," Eddie shook his head. "She was damn pissed when she found out too." He began to snicker, "Thought she was gonna blow Jimmy's balls off. Not sure why she didn't."

Steve pounded on the door. "Open up!" he yelled. As soon as the door opened, he charged out, running at top speed down the hall.

"Hey, don't we gotta sign something?" Eddie shouted after him. "What about my deal?"

Steve sprinted towards Security and grabbed his things from the locker. Giselle wasn't a victim. She was a player. She'd been pulling all the strings and the one person she'd wanted to save was dead. All she had left was revenge. And Jimmy Teer might not be the only man on her hit list.

H5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5O

Danny aimed the remote at the TV, clicking through channel after channel. There was absolutely nothing on. Not even a ball game. Of course it didn't help that Steve only got about six channels. Neanderthal! How could he not have cable? The man truly wasn't normal.

He flipped the TV off and dropped the remote on the coffee table. His eyes lit on the game of Battleship Grace and Steve had been playing earlier. He'd always hated that game. It was pure chance and guesswork. There was no other way to know where any of those stupid ships would be. Strategy game his ass. Give him Risk any day of the week.

He slowly sat up, staring at the game board. Chance and guesswork. Strategy required intel. How the hell had anyone known where he and Steve would be that Sunday? The set up started Friday with the bust of Teer's warehouse and the end game was the following Thursday. There was no room for chance. Steve didn't go out on his boat every Sunday. He barely made it out once a month. But he'd made plans to go that Sunday, and he'd invited Danny. An invitation Danny had only refused because he had Grace that weekend.

Danny's head was spinning, but this time it wasn't from the head injury. He knew. He knew who it was, even if he couldn't believe it. There had only been one person nearby Friday night when he and Steve had talked about their weekend plans. Hayley Peterson, the cute blonde custodian who blushed every time Danny walked by. He forced himself to his feet and ran to the guest room, throwing on a pair of khakis and a t-shirt. Then he raced outside, to the squad car he knew was posted on the street, and demanded a ride to 5-0 headquarters.

H5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5O

Steve jogged down the corridor towards the 5-0 offices. Kono had filled him in on the disturbing news that Jimmy Teer's bomb maker had been masquerading as one of the Palace's janitors. Even now the bomb squad was doing a thorough sweep of the building. He came to a dead stop when he entered the conference room and saw a familiar figure leaning against the control table.

"What the hell are you doing here, Danny?" Steve strode into the room and glowered at his partner.

"I figured out who tried to kill us," Danny looked up at Steve. "I just didn't know why until I talked to Kono."

"Danny, go home, or I swear to god I will have a police escort take you there and sit on you," Steve ordered.

"No," Danny said coolly.

"No?" Steve arched his eyebrows at his partner's challenge.

"No," Danny repeated, his voice hardening. "If it was you, if you were the one still recovering and we were this close to catching the person who did it, you tell me how much luck I'd have ordering you to sit around on your ass twiddling your thumbs."

Steve stared at Danny for a long moment and then finally nodded. "Fine," he said tersely. "But you're not going out in the field. And that's non-negotiable."

"Fine," Danny smiled. "Now if you are done wasting time badgering me, Kono has something."

"What have you got, Kono?" Steve settled one last glare on his partner before turning towards the youngest member of their team.

"Well, I got to thinking about Hayley Peterson and how she got a job here," Kono swiped her hand over the control table and the image of Hayley's Palace ID card appeared on the plasma. "Background checks to get in here are tough. A cover identity would have to be pretty solid to get past them."

"Hayley Peterson's a real person," Steve guessed.

"Yup," Kono nodded. "She worked for a janitorial company that serviced quite a few retail buildings and government office buildings before applying for a job here. As you can see," Kono added a second image next to the first, this time of the real Hayley Peterson's driver's license, "the two girls don't look exactly alike, but it's close enough that it didn't raise any eyebrows."

"How does this help us find her now, Kono?" Steve asked impatiently.

"Hayley Peterson lived near Kawela Bay, in a house across the street from the woman and her two boys who supposedly reported seeing your boat explode, Boss," Kono grinned.

"She was living in Hayley's house," Steve snapped his fingers.

"And she might still be hiding out there," Danny nodded.

"Let's go. Call Chin and have him meet us out there," Steve ordered Kono. "If Giselle's figured out she's been made, then we may not have much time."

"I'm coming with you," Danny clipped his gun to the waistband of his khakis.

"What did I say Danny?" Steve snapped, holding up one hand to stop Danny from advancing any further.

"No field work, I know," Danny nodded in understanding. "I'll stay in the car. I don't care. But I want to be there when you bring her in."

"Okay," Steve relented. "But if you get out of that car, I swear to god, Danny you will find out up close and personal what a military haircut is like."

"You wouldn't," Danny gasped, raising his hands to his head protectively. "I've been traumatized enough already!"

"Don't push me," Steve said darkly, stalking out of the offices.

Kono bit her lip to keep from laughing as Danny meekly followed Steve outside.

H5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5O

"Look sharp, everyone," Steve directed his team as they began to fan out and approach the Peterson house.

"_Our girl likes bombs, so be careful in case she left anything behind,"_ Danny's voice sounded in the comm. unit from his position in the Camaro.

It was early morning and the house was quiet, as was the neighborhood. The window next to the front door was partially open and the curtain flapped in the breeze. Gun at the ready, Steve positioned himself next to the open window while Kono prepared to kick down the front door. Chin disappeared around the back of the house.

Steve peeked inside the window. A man lay motionless in the middle of the living room floor.

"We have a body," Steve said.

"_Jimmy Teer?"_ Danny asked.

"Can't tell," Steve answered. He glanced over at Kono. "I don't see any tripwires around the door. Let's go."

Kono nodded. Trying the door handle, she glanced over at Steve when it turned. Taking a deep breath, she turned the handle and then slammed the back of her foot into the door, throwing it wide open. She and Steve pushed into the small house even as Chin entered from the back.

Swiftly they cleared the three room bungalow. Steve moved towards the body, bending down to get a better look.

"Yup, it's Jimmy Teer," Steve glanced up at Chin. "Single gunshot to the back of the head, execution style. Let's get the M.E. down here."

Steve stood up, moving into the small kitchen. Dirty dishes spilled over the sink. He opened up the refrigerator and pulled out the milk container, twisting the cap off. The sour odor of spoilt milk filled the air.

He was about to move back into the living room when a large box on the kitchen table caught his eye. He walked over, carefully lifting the lid aside. His eyes widened when he recognized what was inside.

"Get out!" he yelled. "Everyone out. We've got a bomb here!" He sprinted back towards the living room. "Get out now!"

H5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5O

"Steve," Danny shouted into his comm. unit. "Steve! Dammit, answer me!"

Danny hadn't even managed to fumble open the door to the Camaro when Hayley Peterson's house exploded.

tbc…


	12. Chapter 12

Thank you so much to everyone who left a review! I really appreciate it. Aren't cliffies fun? :)

As always, thank you to my wonderful beta JoaniexJony!

Hope you enjoy the next chapter and do let me know what you think!

Chapter Twelve

Danny raced across the street towards Hayley Peterson's house, his heart in his throat. Oily black smoke spewed into the morning air, pieces of wood siding littered the street. Legs pumping, heart hammering, Danny ran as if his life depended upon it. He could barely breathe. His entire team had been inside that house. If they hadn't gotten out…if they were all dead…his team, his family…there would be no coming back from that – Ever.

And then he saw Kono pulling herself to her feet, wiping the dust off her clothes. Chin was just behind her. Though slightly dazed, they seemed relatively unhurt. But Steve was no where in sight.

Pieces of rubble littered the front yard. The air was thick with smoke. The house itself creaked and groaned, its gutted frame threatening to collapse in on itself.

Danny charged through the front yard, hopping over pieces of roof and timber, eyes darting frantically for any sign of his partner.

"Steve!" Danny yelled. "Steve!"

Danny heard a muffled groan. He stopped, attempting to pinpoint where the sound was coming from.

"Steve! Come on, answer me buddy! Where the hell are you?" Danny shouted again. Another groan led him to a small pile of rubble. He dashed towards it, waving Chin and Kono over as he hollered, "Over here."

Quickly the three of them began tossing aside several large pieces of roofing, finally revealing a dust covered Steve, his hands held protectively over his head.

"Hang in there, buddy. Just stay still," Danny put his hand on Steve's leg.

"'M 'okay," Steve mumbled, slowly turning over and sitting up. He stared at the remains of the house. Shockingly, most of it was still standing. The damage largely confined to the back and the kitchen where Steve had found the bomb.

"I'll get the paramedics," Chin said.

"No," Steve shook his head, brushing the dirt out of his hair. "I'm fine." He carefully flexed his arms and legs and then, wincing slightly, pulled himself to his feet. "Yup," he nodded, stretching out his back. He smiled at Danny. "I'm good."

"Jesus," Danny bent over, bracing his hands against his thighs. The air was suddenly too thin. The sun too bright. The world tilted and his knees went out from under him. Vaguely he felt hands grabbing his upper arms, voices murmuring distantly, as if through water. And then his senses whooshed back in a flood and he realized he was sitting on the ground, Steve peering anxiously at him as Chin yelled for the paramedics.

"Jesus," Danny whispered again, he scrubbed at his face with shaking hands.

"It's okay, Danny," Steve sat down on the ground next to him sliding his arm around Danny's shoulders in support. "Just breathe. We're okay. That explosion wasn't meant to kill us. It didn't have much concussive force. I think it was mostly for show."

"I thought," Danny put his head in his hands. "For a second…I thought you were all dead."

Steve motioned the paramedics over. "We're fine, Danny. What about you? Did you get caught by the explosion? Did you hit your head?"

"No," Danny drew in a shaky breath. His head was beginning to clear, the world no longer spinning. "I'm fine." He glanced up at the paramedic kneeling in front of him. "Really. I'm fine."

"You're getting checked out Danny, no argument," Steve said firmly, nodding at the paramedic to begin his work.

"This coming from the man actually _in_ the explosion," Danny rounded on his partner as the paramedic wrapped his fingers around Danny's wrist and began taking his pulse. "That's rich. _You're_ the one who should be receiving medical attention."

"I'm not the one who fainted," Steve reminded him with a slight smile.

"I did not faint," Danny said heatedly. "I was overcome with terror thinking my best friends in the world had just been blown to smithereens! Excuse me for giving a damn!"

"Your pulse is a little fast," the paramedic commented, glancing warily between the two men.

"No, that's normal being around him," Danny jerked a thumb towards Steve. "It's called the McGarrett effect. Trust me, fast pulse, stroke inducing high blood pressure, it's all just a part of the package of being this man's partner."

"Would you just shut up and let the man do his job?" Steve's eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"You're the one who got blown up," Danny swiveled his head to glare at his friend.

"I did not get blown up," Steve argued.

"A roof landed on your head," Danny countered, his hands stabbing at the air, dislodging the paramedic's attempts to wrap the blood pressure cuff around his arm.

"A small piece of roof and it wasn't very heavy and it didn't land very hard," Steve responded, an edge in his voice. He grabbed one of Danny's arms and held it still, allowing the paramedic to finish taking Danny's blood pressure.

"Um, your pressure's slightly elevated as well, but that's not surprising. It might be a good idea though, if you went home and took it easy for the rest of the day, avoided stress…" the paramedic glanced over at Steve as he pulled the cuff from Danny's arm. He pulled a penlight out of his pocket. "Let me just check your pupil responses and then we're all done."

"Wait a second, what do you mean this was all for show?" Danny asked, ignoring the paramedic and zeroing in on something Steve had said earlier.

"It's like a flash bang," Steve pointed towards the still smoking house. "The blast was designed to get our attention. The back of the house is a mess, sure, but the living room where the body is? I mean, look at it, it was barely touched. I think Giselle wanted us to find that body inside. She wasn't expecting us. She couldn't have been. The bomb was on a timer. We didn't set it off. That bomb wasn't designed to destroy evidence. It was designed to make sure we got it."

"You're saying Giselle deliberately left that body for us? Why would she do that?" Danny pulled his head away from the paramedic and turned to Steve in disbelief.

"If you could just look straight ahead for a minute," the exasperated paramedic lightly placed his fingers under Danny's chin and exerted pressure to swing his patient's head back towards him.

With barely suppressed irritation, Danny held still long enough to let the paramedic flash the penlight in his eyes.

"Maybe she left the body as a taunt," Chin chimed in. "Watch out, I'm coming for you next."

"I don't think so, Chin," Steve shook his head. "I think she killed exactly who she meant to. The one who actually set this whole course of events in motion. Danny and I were nothing more than collateral damage from the very beginning. She needed us out of the way to free her brother. That's no longer relevant. Besides, she's not the cat and mouse type. If she wanted us dead, she would have led us here with another anonymous tip and set the bomb off when we got here. No, I think this is her way of telling us she's done."

"Well isn't she just a peach?" Danny winced as the paramedic turned the penlight off and finally let go of his chin. He blinked rapidly, attempting to get rid of the spots in his eyes.

"I should really check you over too, Sir," the paramedic turned to Steve.

Before Steve could reply, Danny held up one hand. "Two words for you Steven: blown up."

"Fine," Steve growled with aggravation. "Let's just get this over with," he motioned the paramedic over, impatiently submitting to the medical once over.

"Your vitals look good," the paramedic said as he finished examining Steve. He packed up his kit and pulled himself to his feet. "Just make sure if you start to feel any effects from the explosion - pain, shortness of breath, dizziness, that you seek medical treatment immediately," the paramedic warned before slinging his bag over his shoulder and retreating to the ambulance.

"Told you I was fine," Steve glared at Danny.

"So what now, Boss?" Kono interjected before Danny could respond.

"I'm so glad you asked," Steve stood up and helped Danny to his feet. "I have an idea."

"Are you going to share with the rest of the class?" Danny asked.

"I think we need to pay our respects to the dead," Steve said before heading back to the car.

Danny shook his head at Kono's questioning glance. He just hoped whatever Steve had in mind, it didn't include any more bombs. He didn't think his heart could take any further shocks to his system.

H5OH5OH5OH5OH5OH5O

"It's been three days since Giselle blew up Hayley Peterson's house, do you really think she's still going to show up here? For all we know she's in Tahiti by now." Danny glanced across the moonlit cemetery, a fresh grave at the center of his line of sight. A large mausoleum stood at the edge of the graveyard, its stone old and worn. They were parked on a small dirt track the cemetery used to move equipment, hidden behind a line of bushes and trees.

Ever since Erik Varnell had been buried two days ago, Chin and Kono had been staking out the cemetery during the day, leaving Danny and Steve with the night shift.

"He was her brother," Steve nodded. "The funeral home was anonymously wired funds for a casket and an engraved headstone. She'll show. It's just a matter of when."

Danny rested his elbow against the car window. He gazed out across the quiet cemetery. "We came pretty close this time, didn't we?"

"Are you considering early retirement?" Steve asked quietly, glancing over at his partner.

"No," Danny shook his head. "I meant what I said the first day we met," he looked over at Steve and smirked, "the day you got me shot. That I want to do something I'm good at and make this place as safe for Gracie as I can."

"And what about you and Rachel?" Steve asked.

"We're done. Over. Finito," Danny blew out a long breath. "I can't change for her, and she can't change for me. Irreconcilable differences. Just like it says in our divorce papers. I guess now I finally believe it."

"But you love her," Steve leaned against the car door.

"Yeah," Danny nodded. "And she loves me."

"And you're okay with that?" Steve asked, arching an eyebrow at Danny.

"Yeah. I can accept it," Danny answered softly. "When I followed Rachel and Grace out here, I came primarily for Grace. I couldn't be her father from five thousand miles away, But… a part of me was still following Rachel. I didn't know how to let her go."

"Do you think Rachel and Stan will be able to work things out?" Steve asked, looking past Danny and out the window at Erik Varnell's grave.

"I don't know," Danny shrugged. "But if they don't, Rachel isn't leaving Hawaii with my daughter without a fight. Grace will always be my number one priority, but she's not the only reason I'm here anymore. As much as I hate to admit it, this is my home now."

"I'm sorry about Rachel," Steve said, glancing at his partner. "But you know I'll always back your play where Grace is concerned."

"I know, and thank you," Danny smiled at his best friend. "But I'm surprisingly okay with it. Maybe almost dying put some things in perspective."

"I guess it can have that effect on people," Steve nodded with a wry smile.

Danny glanced at his watch. It was nearing two in the morning and he was beat. He yawned and stretched, then glanced sidelong at his partner. "You know, after you went missing in the ocean, I really thought you were dead, that your SuperSEAL powers had finally run out. I didn't think there was any way even you could survive such an ordeal."

"To be completely honest, I'm still not exactly sure how I did survive," Steve admitted hesitantly. "Do you remember when I told you about aumakua?"

"That day you tossed Joey into the shark cage?" Danny chuckled. "I remember you told Gracie about it and she became obsessed with the idea that the owl outside her bedroom window might actually be the spirit of her great grandmother Isabella," he smiled. "Why?"

Steve shifted in the Camaro's driver's seat, easing a kink out of his back.

At his partner's silence, Danny sent Steve a questioning glance. "Are you saying you believe in that stuff?"

"I should have died Danny," Steve rested his head against his hand.

"So why do you think you survived?" Danny asked, sitting back patiently as Steve pulled his thoughts together.

"I don't think I was alone out there," Steve finally answered, dropping one hand to the steering wheel.

"And who do you think was with you?" Danny looked curiously at his friend.

"I kept hearing my mom's voice, feeling her presence. My dad's too," Steve stared straight ahead out the window. "I know how crazy that might sound to you."

"You were hypothermic, dehydrated. You were probably hallucinating," Danny suggested.

"Maybe," Steve shrugged and nodded. "But without those dolphins, I would have been a goner for sure."

"Wait a second," Danny waved his hand at Steve. "Back up. Did you just say dolphins?"

"Yeah," Steve gripped the steering wheel and tapped his thumbs against it. "Flipper and Willy. They carried me to a rowboat, got me inside. They tossed fish over the side so I could suck the bones for water. I don't remember much after that. But the Coast Guard was shocked that rowboat drifted right into the path of the pleasure cruiser that rescued me."

"Okay," Danny scratched his chin. "Dolphins have been known to rescue sailors, right? I mean, it's been known to happen."

"Right," Steve shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Okay, so if you did get rescued by dolphins, that was probably it, don't you think?" Danny asked.

"Sure," Steve nodded, not sounding at all convinced.

"Are you saying you think the dolphins were the spirits of your parents?" Danny asked.

"I don't know what I'm saying, Danny," Steve squirmed. "Look, let's just drop it, okay? Pretend I never said anything."

"No, I'm afraid it's too late for that," Danny glanced over at Steve. The man looked like he was ready to crawl under a rock. Keeping his voice light, Danny said, "I mean, I get Flipper, but why did you name the other one Willy?"

"Willy," Steve looked at Danny expectantly. At Danny's look of confusion, he continued impatiently, "Like in the movie. Free Willy."

Danny started to laugh.

"What?" Steve asked, glaring at Danny with irritation.

"Willy was a whale, you goof." Danny chortled.

"Was not!" Steve denied, his face flushing.

"I can hear that dolphin now," Danny was practically rolling with laughter. "'I don't get why that jackass keeps calling me Willy.'"

"It's not that funny, Danno," Steve said, though a smile quirked at his lips.

"Oh that's where you're wrong, babe, it's very funny," Danny clutched his stomach. "You watched Free Willy. My mother forced me to take my sister to see it. What's your excuse?"

"What makes you think it wasn't a Navy SEAL class on how to withstand torture?" Steve began to laugh.

"Nice try," Danny wiped at his eyes. "I've known it all along. You're a teddy bear with an assault rifle."

"Hey!" Steve smacked Danny's arm, his frivolity turning on a dime. "Look!" He pointed towards the gravesite. "There she is."

"Well I'll be damned," Danny's eyes widened in surprise. "You were right."

"I'm always right," Steve grinned at Danny. He climbed out of the car, pulling his gun from its holster. "Let's go get her."

Danny followed suit. The two men walked cautiously towards Erik Varnell's grave.

"Giselle Varnell," Steve called out. "Keep your hands where I can see them. You're under arrest for the murders of Hayley Peterson and Jimmy Teer, and the attempted murders of Detective Danny Williams and Lt. Commander Steve McGarrett."

Giselle dropped a bouquet of flowers on her brother's gravestone and then turned, her hands up, palms out. She smiled. "Well hello boys. I thought you might be waiting for me. I mean, visiting my dear brother's grave is the obvious move, but what can I say? I'm the sentimental type."

Danny and Steve glanced at each other, but continued their steady pace forward. When they were within twenty feet of her, they stopped.

"On the ground, hands behind your back," Danny said, gun trained on the woman who'd nearly killed him.

"I don't think so, cutie," Giselle winked at Danny as she shook her head. Her blond hair bounced on her shoulders.

"We will shoot you," Steve warned, his voice hard. "You're not getting out of here, Giselle. Just give it up."

"Is that any way to treat a girl who took one of the most badass arms dealers off the streets for you?" Giselle pouted. "You should be thanking me."

"You want us to thank you?" Danny shook his head in disbelief. "You tried to kill us!"

"It was the only way to free my older brother," Giselle shrugged. "It was nothing personal, Danny. You were always nice to poor tongue tied little Hayley. I actually kind of liked you. I thought you'd be easy to get into bed, but you only had eyes for that tight little ex-wifey of yours. So I had to change my plans. Unfortunately your team saw through them a lot faster than I thought you would. And now look where we are." Giselle cast a slight frown towards her brother's headstone. She shrugged again, the frown fading as she added lightly, "Hindsight really is twenty/twenty, isn't it?"

"Your original plan was to sleep with me and then kill me?" Danny stared at the deadly assassin in shock.

"I thought you should go out with a smile on your face," Giselle purred, eyeing Danny up and down. "You never have any fun. I mean this is Hawaii. Live a little."

Beside Danny, his eyes never wavering from Giselle, Steve smirked. "She does have a point, Danno."

"Just, shut it, Steven. I have _fun_," Danny said in irritation. He stabbed his gun towards Giselle. "And just for the record, psycho bomb loving blondes are not exactly my type."

"That's too bad," Giselle gave Danny a sultry smile. "I would have blown your mind."

"I'm sure you would have," Danny replied dryly. "Now down on the ground!"

"Boys, it's been fun," Giselle ignored Danny's order and cocked her head at the two men. "But I just came to tell my big brother I'm sorry for screwing up his life. So if you don't mind…I'm on something of a deadline."

"I told you, you're not walking out of here, Giselle," Steve took a step forward, pointing the muzzle of his gun to the ground. "On your stomach, hands behind your back."

"Didn't anyone ever tell you no means no, Commander?" Giselle smiled sweetly. Hands still up, she slowly reached across her chest and pulled open her jacket. Underneath, wrapped around her waist, was a bomb. She shook her arm and a trigger fell from the sleeve of her jacket into the palm of her hand.

"Shit. It had to be another freakin' bomb, didn't it? Shit," Danny cursed, his fingers tightening around his gun as he glanced over at his partner. "This is just not right."

Steve's gaze was trained on Giselle, his blue eyes ice cold, his face a blank mask, his hands steady on the gun he had pointed at Giselle's head.

"My finger even twitches, I set off the bomb, we all die," Giselle said, her eyes devoid of all emotion.

"We can talk about this Giselle," Danny said. He took a slight step backwards. "Nobody has to die tonight."

"There's nothing to talk about," Giselle said. "I have no interest in the two of you anymore. You let me walk out of here, and I'll leave Hawaii and never come back. So either you let me go, or we all die. To be perfectly honest, I don't really care which one you choose. I think you do, though."

"Okay," Steve said, his voice flat. "Go."

"Wise choice," Giselle nodded. She began to slowly back away towards the far side of the cemetery.

Steve motioned for Danny to move backwards as well. Guns still raised, both men began making a slow retreat away from Erik Varnell's grave, inch by inch widening the distance between themselves and the bomb strapped to Giselle's waist.

"What are we doing Steven?" Danny murmured. "Are we really letting her walk away?"

"Danny, prepare to duck," Steve said, never taking his eyes off his target.

Then he pulled the trigger.

tbc…


	13. Chapter 13

Thank you to everyone who has left a review over the course of this story! Thank you so much for taking the time to let me know your thoughts and reactions. I've appreciated every single one. Getting the review alerts in my inbox always made my day!

Writing this story has taken over my life for the past three months, but it has been an incredible experience. I want to thank everyone who's been reading and everyone who alerted the story.

I must again thank my incredible beta JoaniexJony who gave so much of her time to reading, editing, and offering insightful critiques. You're just wonderful, my dear! Mahalo from the bottom of my heart!

Well, here it is, the last chapter. Thank you to everyone who's still reading and do let me know what you think.

Chapter Thirteen

He was isolated in a cocoon of incessant noise. Louder than any surf in the impact zone. Louder than the roar of machine gun fire. It filled his ears, reverberated through his body and drowned out, or simply absorbed, all other sound. He didn't know if his eyes were open or closed. If the vague outlines taking shape against a hazy darkness were real or imagined, objects or people. His senses had gone - senseless.

"Steven."

Finally a lone voice managed to pierce the chaos surrounding him. A voice he recognized.

"Steven."

He followed the voice to a pair of hazel eyes in a craggy face.

"Dad?" he gasped.

"Don't be sorry, Steven." His dad's voice was a whisper. "At the end, don't be sorry."

"Wha? Dad?" Steve tried to focus on a face that was quickly fading into darkness. He blinked, struggling to sit up.

"Steven, stay down!"

His partner's voice was like a razor, shearing through the din and cracking it wide open. He felt hands on his shoulders, pushing against him.

"Danny," he groaned. His head pounded, his chest felt oddly tight. He opened his eyes. Danny hovered above him, blue eyes panicked, his hair a wild mess.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Danny's grip on Steve's shoulders tightened as fear gave way to anger.

"Couldn't let her…get away," Steve choked out.

"You couldn't let her get away?" Danny's voice was filled with incredulity. His fingers tightened around Steve's shirt. "She was wearing a fucking bomb!"

"Danny," Steve gasped. "I can't breathe. Let up."

"Shit! Sorry," Danny startled, yanking both hands away from his partner's chest. "Better?"

Steve nodded, drawing in long breaths of air. "We only had one chance to stop her. I took it."

"You got yourself blown up – _again_! Only you, Steven, could manage to get blown up three times in just about as many weeks. These things do not happen to normal people!" Danny sat back on his haunches and sighed, running his fingers through his hair in as much of an attempt to hide the trembling in his hands as to tame his wild mane.

"I'm fine, Danny," Steve said, again attempting to sit up. He winced at a stab of pain in his ribcage.

"I told you to stay down," Danny glared fiercely at his best friend as he pressed the palm of his hand against Steve's chest. "You were thrown at least twenty feet backwards by that blast. You hit the ground so hard you kept rolling another five feet. The ambulance is on the way. Expect to be trussed up like a turkey and carted to the emergency room."

"You're okay, though?" Steve asked, running his eyes over his partner's body as he allowed himself to be pushed back to the ground.

"I'm fine you doofus. I ducked behind that mausoleum over there," Danny glowered. "Thanks for the warning by the way. It's nice to know from time to time you've actually listened to me." He pulled his vest off, folding it over and gently positioning it under Steve's head.

"I may discount ninety percent of what you have to say, but I always listen to you Danno," Steve smirked.

"Good to know," Danny scowled.

"She is dead, right?" Steve looked questioningly at his partner.

"Uh, yeah," Danny glanced behind him and grimaced. "Max is going to be picking up the pieces for a while."

Steve wearily nodded, resting his hands on his stomach. He tried to ignore the growing discomfort in his neck and back. His lips twitched in pain and by the way Danny's eyes suddenly narrowed in comprehension, he knew his partner had seen it.

"Hang on, Steve," Danny gently touched Steve's shoulder. He turned around and yelled at the HPD officers swarming the scene. "Where's that medic?"

"Danny," Steve reached over and tapped Danny's leg. "Stop worrying. I'm okay. I'm just a little banged up, that's all."

"I'm not worried," Danny blustered. "Why would I be worried? You're like Plastic Man. You get blown up and you bounce right back."

"I can tell when you're worried. You have a tone," Steve smiled knowingly.

"We've been through this before. I do _not_ have a tone," Danny glared mildly at his partner. "You, on the other hand, have 'I just slammed my finger in the car door' face so stop claiming you're fine."

"Fine," Steve admitted grudgingly, "But you do too have a tone." He grumbled, sighing in resignation as he finally caught sight of two paramedics hustling towards them, gurney bouncing along beside them on the grass. All he wanted to do was go home and sleep for a week, not endure all the poking and prodding he knew was in his immediate future.

The entire time the paramedics assessed his condition, asking questions and taking vitals, strapping him into the uncomfortable C-collar and backboard, inserting an IV into the crook of his arm, Danny maintained a steady hand on his ankle, only finally letting go at the doors to the trauma room when they reached Hawaii Medical Center. As he was wheeled inside, he found he missed the reassurance Danny's hold on his ankle had provided.

He was transferred to a gurney situated under several bright lights, and then the nurses efficiently removed his shoes and cut off his vest and clothes. He mourned the loss of yet another good set of cargoes and t-shirt, but the vest hurt the most. It wasn't standard police issue, and it was harder to obtain. The nurses threw a hospital gown over him, not even attempting to secure it around the bulky C-collar and backboard.

A doctor he didn't recognize ordered a blood panel along with x-rays of his chest, neck, head and spine. As one of the nurses drew his blood, another rolled a portable x-ray machine to his gurney. Just as they'd finished taking all the x-rays, Kiki and Noah arrived.

"Lt. Commander," Kiki smiled down at him, taking a firm grip on both his hands. "Go ahead and squeeze my hands, please." As Steve complied, she asked, "Dare I ask what happened this time?"

"Oh you know," Steve attempted a half grin. "Mad bomber. The usual."

As Kiki moved to the foot of the bed and tested the motor responses of Steve's feet and legs, Noah proceeded to palpate Steve chest and stomach, stopping at a particularly sore spot on Steve's chest that left him gritting his teeth in pain.

Noah pulled out his stethoscope. "Danny said you were thrown about twenty feet, and lost consciousness for approximately ten minutes."

"So I've been told," Steve squirmed as Noah moved the cold bell of the stethoscope from place to place on his chest, every once in a while stopping to tap his fingers firmly against his ribcage. Evidently satisfied with what he heard, the doctor then moved up to Steve's head and peeled back his eyelids, flashing his penlight into them. Steve blinked rapidly when Noah finally finished his examination and put the penlight away.

"Are you experiencing any nausea? Blurry vision? Double vision?" Noah asked, crossing his arms over his chest and peering down at Steve.

"No, no, and no," Steve answered. "I don't feel like I'm concussed. You're Dr. Noah Beckham, I'm Steve McGarrett. I know what day it is, that my partner is Detective Danny Williams and he and I were staking out the cemetery waiting for a suspect."

"Very good," Noah smiled.

"Well, I think you got lucky," Kiki moved into Steve's line of sight. "Your x-rays are clear and I'm not seeing any signs of spinal injury. The pain you're experiencing is most likely from strained muscles in your neck and back. We can free you from that backboard, but I think we'll keep you in a soft collar to give your neck a little extra support. I have another patient to attend to, but you're in good hands with Noah. I'll check in on you later."

"Thanks Doc," Steve murmured.

"You've got some bruising on your chest, but I'm not seeing any sign of underlying injury," Noah added. "I want to keep you under observation for twenty four hours, so we're going to admit you to a room."

"Do you know if Danny's still here?" Steve asked, breathing a small sigh of relief as they removed the backboard and replaced the hard C-collar with a soft one. One of the nurses manipulated his arms through the sleeves of the hospital gown and secured it around his neck and back.

"He's in the waiting room," Noah said. He added reproachfully, "The nurse I have keeping an eye on him says he looks like he could use a bed himself. I thought we had an agreement."

"Sorry Doc," Steve murmured apologetically. "I tried to keep him away from the action, but things started moving pretty quickly. He refused to be left out. I can't blame him; I would have done the same thing. Will you make sure he's okay?"

"Kiki's already gone to check on him," Noah assured him. "You have another visitor waiting out there for you, too."

"Chin or Kono?" Steve asked.

"Neither," Noah shook his head as he set Steve's chart down at the bottom of the gurney. "I believe it's a woman named Catherine."

"Noah, do me a favor," Steve shifted slightly on the gurney. His back and neck muscles were screaming from the abuse they'd received, and he couldn't find a comfortable position. "Don't give me any pain meds or sedatives until I've had a chance to talk to her. After that, you can knock me out for the next week if you want to."

"I'll hold off on the meds as long as your visit doesn't go on for too long," Noah agreed.

"Thanks Doc," Steve winced again. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

"You all right?" Noah gently set a hand on Steve's shoulder. At Steve's nod he said, "Once the orderlies get you upstairs, I'll bring her up. Then we'll get you settled in for the night."

"You'll let me know if Danny's okay?" Steve eyed the doctor worriedly.

"I sure will," Noah reassured him. "Either Kiki or I will check in on you as soon as we know anything."

"Thanks, Doc," Steve held his hand out to the doctor.

"My pleasure," Noah said, firmly shaking his patient's hand.

As Noah left, two orderlies came in. Steve closed his eyes as they moved him upstairs. It was a different room than the VIP room, but it had two empty beds. As he climbed into one of the beds he wondered what Catherine was doing here. Her next shore leave wasn't for two weeks. His stomach lurched as the thought struck him that she might have been reassigned, given just enough time to say goodbye before heading off to another post, thousands of miles away. It was then he realized how much he'd grown to count on her, and to be honest, he wasn't sure how he felt about that. He wasn't sure how he felt about that at all.

H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50

Danny slumped against the back of the uncomfortably hard chair in the emergency room waiting area. He'd downed four advils, but they hadn't touched the spiking agony in his head. He closed his eyes and massaged his forehead. He was actually envious of Steve's gurney. He thought he'd give anything just to lie down for a while. Even the floor seemed appealing at this point.

"Danny?"

His eyes flew open at the sound of his ex-wife's concerned voice. He stared at her in puzzlement. "What are you doing here Rachel?"

"Grace was worried about you," Rachel sat down in the chair next to Danny's. "I see she was right to be. You're pushing yourself too hard, Daniel. Should you even be out of the hospital yet?"

"She called because she had a nightmare," Danny sighed. "I told her what happened. I didn't want her to hear about it on the news and get scared."

"Daniel," Rachel touched Danny's arm. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not really your problem anymore, Rachel," Danny said softly.

"You're Grace's father. I'm always going to care about you," Rachel folded her hands in her lap. "I'm not going to apologize for that."

"Look, Rach, maybe one day we can be friends. I would like us to not be adversaries for the rest of our lives, for Grace's sake if nothing else," Danny struggled to work through his jumbled thoughts. "But right now, I need some space, Rachel. I finally get it - I get that we're over. I get that we may always love each other, but acknowledge that we're totally wrong for each other. I also get that you need order and security in your life, a consistency from day to day. It's what I was never able to give you, and most certainly couldn't give you working with Steve and 5-0. And I also get that I need to stop thinking of you as my safe place, my rock. You have to stop being the one I seek comfort from, and you have to stop being the one who gives it to me." Danny let out a long sigh, and looked at her sadly. "I will work on letting you go. But it's a process, and I need some space. Go home. Kiss our baby for me and tell her Danno loves her and I'll see her as soon as I can."

Rachel sat quietly for a moment and then she stood up, tears in her eyes. "Goodbye, Daniel."

"Goodbye Rachel." He watched her turn and walk away. She didn't look back.

"Detective Williams."

At the sound of Dr. Imani's voice, Danny stood up, turning to face her. "How's Steve?" he asked. A wave of pain stabbed him behind the eyes. The room swayed for a moment, and he reached a hand down to the arm of the chair at the same time that Kiki grabbed his elbow to steady him.

"Steve is going to be fine," Kiki answered, easing Danny back down into the chair and snagging his wrist. "I'm a little concerned about you though. Was I not clear when I specified complete bed rest as a condition of your early release?"

"Can we save the lecture, Dr. Imani?" Danny glanced up at her, his blue eyes pleading. The adrenaline he'd been riding since the moment Giselle Varnell had shown up at the cemetery was fast wearing off. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep himself sitting up. His head was throbbing and he was struck by the incredible urge to simply curl up on the floor and close his eyes for a while. And maybe throw up. The headache was beginning to unsettle his stomach.

"Why don't we move to an exam room," Kiki suggested, snapping her fingers urgently at a nearby nurse. Between the two of them, they helped Danny walk to a nearby empty room.

Gratefully, Danny lay back on the gurney. He was completely spent. His head was pounding. His entire body ached with tiredness. The nurse wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his upper arm. He groaned as Kiki checked his eyes with her penlight, slamming his lids closed as soon as she was done.

"Is it my head again?" Danny asked apprehensively, staring worriedly up at his doctor through slitted lids.

"I'm going to order a CT scan to be on the safe side, but I believe you're suffering from a sudden onset migraine, probably brought on by stress and exhaustion." Kiki sat down on the rolling stool next to the gurney. "Your pupil responses are normal. Your blood pressure is a little low, so I'm ordering some IV fluids and we'll admit you for the night for observation. I'll give you a little something to take the edge off the pain right now, and after the CT scan comes back clear, I'm ordering a sedative to make sure you sleep for a while. Rest is the best medicine for you right now."

Danny winced at the slight pinch in his arm as Kiki injected the pain meds.

"Is there anyone I can call for you?" Kiki asked softly.

"Just Steve or my team," Danny answered tiredly.

"Steve is being admitted for observation as well. We'll put you both in the same room again."

"Thanks, Doc," Danny murmured.

Kiki lightly patted his arm. "Get some rest. You'll feel better tomorrow. I'll check in on you later."

Danny barely managed to stay awake as the nurses helped him out of his clothes and into a gown. By the time they started the IV, he'd already fallen asleep.

H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50

Catherine tentatively stepped inside Steve's hospital room. The doctors had assured her he was fine, but she hadn't really known what to expect. Other than a soft collar around his neck, he didn't bear many other signs that he'd nearly died several hours ago. Steve was always putting himself in harms way, and he'd gotten lucky - again. She just hoped his luck wouldn't run out.

"You've had a bad run with bombs lately, my friend," she smiled, taking his hand as she sat down on the edge of his bed.

"Unfortunate, but true," he smiled back. "I wasn't expecting you."

"My CO let me take a few personal days," she explained. "I was hoping you'd be free for dinner. I waited around at your house for a while and then I heard about the explosion."

"I didn't actually intend for the bomb to go off," Steve said ruefully. "I was hoping to put her down before she had a chance to arm it." He cocked his head at her on the pillow. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Catherine smiled, nodding. "I've just…the last couple weeks made me think about things. Made me think about us…" Her smile faltered and her eyes filled with tears. "When I thought you might be dead, Steve…"

"Catherine, I'm sorry," Steve squeezed her hand. He reached up and gently rubbed the tears from her cheeks with his thumb. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

"No," she shook her head forcefully. "It made me think about things, about us, in a new light. It forced me to admit to myself what I feel for you."

"Catherine," Steve felt his heart clutch in his chest. He shook his head and put a finger to her lips.

Gently Catherine took Steve's hand in hers and pulled it back down to her lap. "No," she said firmly. "You are not going to be a regret I have at the end of my life. So I'm going to say this, and if you don't feel the same way that's all right." She lifted her eyes and gazed straight into his pale blue ones. "I love you Steve McGarrett. I don't think I've ever been happier than when I'm with you, and I would gladly stay with you for the rest of my life." She set his hand back down on the bed. "There, I've said what I came to say."

"Catherine…I…" Steve felt his mouth go dry. His heart thudded in his chest. He stared at her in shock and realized he had no idea what he wanted to say.

"It's okay," Catherine gently shook her head. "It's okay if you can't say it, or won't say it, or don't feel the same way."

"It's not that," Steve tried to explain. His voice grew thick with emotion. "I care about you Catherine, more than I can say. But I have to finish what I started, and until I figure out what my dad wanted me to do with that champ box, you'll never be safe with me. And I can't…" he cleared his throat, biting his lip. "Nothing can happen to you, Catherine. Do you understand? I couldn't live with myself…I could never forgive myself…" A shiver passed through him. His father's voice echoed in his ears. A warning. _Don't be sorry at the end_. Like Dad was. He and his sister and their mother had made their Dad vulnerable. He wouldn't make the same mistake. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Catherine shook her head, her eyes glistening. "Don't ever be sorry, Steve. That's the point."

"Are you okay?" Steve asked, settling his hand on her knee. "Are we?"

"Yes," Catherine nodded, carefully wiping away her tears. "And yes."

"I'll be getting out of here tomorrow, are you still up for dinner?" Steve asked quietly.

"I'm going to head back to the Enterprise, I think," Catherine said. "I have shore leave in a few weeks. We'll see each other then."

"Okay," Steve smiled sadly. He squeezed her hand. "Come here." He drew her down to him and gently he kissed her.

Catherine cupped his cheek with her palm, kissing him one last time before she stood up and moved towards the door.

"Good night, Catherine. I'll see you soon," Steve said.

"Take care, Steve," Catherine gave him a small wave.

As she walked away, a nagging doubt gripped at Steve. But he shoved it away. He was doing the right thing. The only thing. He would protect her. At all cost. Even if that cost was his heart.

H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50

Kiki followed Danny's gurney into the hospital room. He didn't stir as the orderlies transferred him to the hospital bed. He'd slept soundly through the CT scan and once it had come back clear, she'd put orders in his chart for pain meds and a sedative should he awaken.

"Doc?" Steve whispered. "How's Danny?"

Kiki glanced over at Steve. She'd expected to find him sound asleep as well, but he blinked blearily at his partner in concern.

"He's just fine, Steve," Kiki knelt down next to Steve's bed. "He experienced a sudden onset migraine in the waiting room, but his CT scan is clear. He'll sleep it off and be just fine tomorrow. You need your rest as well. Can I get you something to help you sleep?"

"Nah," Steve sighed, his eyes growing heavy. "I'm good now, just needed to know Danny's okay."

"Just so we're clear," Kiki looked sternly at her patient. "I've already talked to Governor Jameson. When you're both released, both of you are on medical leave for the next week. At that time Noah and I will reassess your conditions and will recommend either further leave or a return to light duty. No arguments. No exceptions."

"Yes, Ma'am," Steve smiled and then yawned. He closed his eyes, his breathing evening out as he finally dropped into sleep.

Kiki watched from the doorway until she was sure both her patients were sleeping peacefully. Then she slipped through the door, closing it softly behind her.

H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50H50

The smell of cooking fish wafted from the barbecue. Even Danny had to admit it smelled awesome. He was fairly certain everything tasted better barbecued. And the one good thing about Hawaii was that you could barbecue all year long. Of course, he'd never admit that to Steve. The man didn't need any more ammunition about what made Hawaii the best place in the world.

"Daddy, look at me!" Grace called excitedly. She was crouched in a perfect surfer's stance at the front of Kono's surfboard. Kono stood gracefully behind her, skillfully directing the board through the water.

"I see you Monkey!" Danny yelled back. "Looking great!" To himself he muttered, "Why? Why does she have to love surfing? She couldn't love basket weaving instead?"

"Basket weaving, brah?" Chin snorted, patting Danny on the back. "Really?"

"Or butter churning," Danny's shoulder slumped in defeat.

"Gracie's going to be a fine surfer one day, Danno," Steve grinned from the barbecue. "You'd better get used to it."

"If she gets eaten by a shark, Steven," Danny rounded on his friend, stabbing a hand in his direction, "I am holding you responsible."

"She'll be fine, Danny," Steve closed the barbecue lid and joined Danny and Chin on the beach. "How could she not? She's got all of us to protect her."

Kono and Grace splashed through the water, running up the beach to join them.

"I want to do it again," Grace grabbed Kono's hand and beamed excitedly up at the older woman.

"We will sweetie," Kono assured her. "After dinner, which smells great, Boss!"

"Thank you," Steve smiled. "It'll be ready in about five minutes." He reached down into the cooler and pulled out a beer for himself and a juice for Grace. "Everyone grab something to drink. I want to make a toast."

When everyone had drinks in hand, Steve looked at his team. He raised his bottle. "Things got pretty rough a few weeks back. Some of us nearly died," he paused to look over at Danny. Danny gazed back at him, his blue eyes solemn.

Grace drifted closer to her father, grabbing his hand and leaning against his leg.

"And some of us carried on while everything fell apart around them," he glanced at Chin and Kono. "I couldn't have asked for a better team. Better friends. Or better family." He glanced at each one of them, his gaze falling on Danny and Grace last. "Mahalo," he said quietly.

"To strength in family," Danny said, his arm tightening around Grace's shoulders. He caught Steve's eye and raised his beer.

"To solace in friendship," Chin added.

"And to hope against all odds," Kono said, leaning into her cousin.

Grace giggled as they all clanked their bottles against each other. As they drank, a comfortable silence fell over the five friends. Until someone's belly let out a loud rumble, sending Grace into another peal of laughter.

"Let's eat!" Danny boomed.

"Let's eat," Steve grinned back, turning towards the barbecue.

The small group of family and friends sat down to their meal, the sun just beginning to set, their laughter continuing to echo long into the night.

The End


End file.
